


Indebtedness

by RecIt_Ralph



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Chaptered, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, HP: EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, My First Fanfic, Second Chances, Slow Build, Snark, Swearing, forgiving Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecIt_Ralph/pseuds/RecIt_Ralph
Summary: Of all the Healers in all of St Mungo's - why does Harry always end up with Malfoy?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys - this is my first attempt at fanfiction. It's going to be chaptered (I've got an idea for the story but I haven't written it yet). Going to try to get at least 4 chapters in!!! At least one a week (hopefully!)
> 
> Let me know if you think this is even remotely interesting as a plot line. Thaanks!

When Harry finally noticed it, he couldn't believe he hadn't sooner. Admittedly, he had very little to occupy him other than his thoughts, strapped as he was to a bed in St Mungo's, wide awake at 2am in the morning. In a lot of ways Magic was still painfully behind the Muggle world - would a telly be too much to ask for?!?

Bet Malfoy would bring him one if he asked. And that thought dragged Harry back to his newly uncovered hypothesis, such as it was. Having qualified as an Auror 3 years ago, this would be Harry's 7th trip to Mungo's - a problem he'd think about once this Malfoy Mystery was behind him, he decided in that moment. 

Right. Back to work. Harry qualified as an Auror 3 years ago. 7 trips to St Mungo's and a quick mental tally would suggest that on the last 4 visits, he was treated by Healer Malfoy. Or rather, Healer-in-training Malfoy for the first (and really, should Healers in training be caring for patients at all??), Junior Healer Malfoy for the next two and Healer Malfoy for the last. Maybe he should send a fruit basket or flowers or something. 

So what were the odds that on 4 separate occasions, the Healer on duty had been Draco bloody Malfoy? Maybe it was just coincidence and Harry's overexercised brain was leading him down a rabbit hole. Nevertheless, he decided a little more exercise would do it no harm. 

Harry went into the Auror programme the summer after the battle of Hogwarts. It had seemed easier to keep channeling the hurt and anger and there were a lot of Death Eaters to round up still. So many had died (including himself) and revenge was an easier means to cope with the crippling grief. It's not what everyone would have chosen but it was the right choice for him. Just like helping George with the shop was the right choice for Ron, and going back to school was the right choice for Hermione. 

Anyway - straight into the Auror Programme, 1 years training and then into the field. That was 5 years ago. Assuming Malfoy took his NEWTs in Year 1, went straight in to the St Mungo's Healing Programme, he would have qualified 1 year ago. That made sense. He saw to Harry's bubertuber boils 2 years ago as a Healer-in-training, slicing hex from a raid gone wrong 9 months later when he reattached 3 of Harry's fingers on his left hand, again as a Junior Healer assisting Healer Evans with the mild confundus a short 2 months after that and today - all on his own, seeing to the 2nd degree burns courtesy an 18 year old perp who thankfully botched an attempt to conjure fiendfyre when 4 Aurors had him surrounded. Idiot would have burned if Harry hadn't jumped in like he did. Honestly - theft is bad but it's not worth dying over! 

They'd apparated to St Mungo's late evening and Harry had been doped up on 7 different kinds of pain potions by the Auror mediwitch and had heavy stasis charms around both his arms and legs - where the worst of the damage was. He couldn't move and he was so delirious he's fairly sure he called Edna the receptionist 'Buckbeak' and attempted to bow down to her. He doesn't remember much about how he got from the reception to the private room he found himself in an hour later, having his arms moved this way and that by a wide eyed mediwizard. 

"Ah, Mr Potter - you're awake! Excellent. My name is Mediwizard Jenkins but call me Andy" he said with a flirtatious twinkle in his eyes. Either that or Harry was still loopy from the drugs? 

"Hi Andy - what's the damage?" Harry responded, keeping his voice deliberately casual and minimally suspicious. He felt minimal pain in his limbs but he knew from experience that wasn't the cure, that was mind games. 

"Not too bad actually, all things considered. I applied a numbing salve to your arms so you'd have a comfortable rest but unfortunately it will wear off soon. The skin on your arms and legs looks irreparable and Healer Bones will be coming by later to regrow it. It's not a pleasant experience but I dare say you'll have felt much worse in your time in the Auror Corps" 

Harry wanted to say he'd probably felt much worse at 8 being sat on by Dudley but that was far more about his life than Call-Me-Andy needed to know. 

Having said that, skin regrowing sounded resolutely unpleasant. Harry realised he'd been quiet for a tad bit too long when he felt Call-Me-Andy touch his shoulder. Which he felt just fine because his shoulders were relatively burn free and didn't merit numbing salve. 

"Mr Potter?" Just the right amount of concern laced with professional interest. They probably get lessons on bedside manners. 

"Harry, please." Harry sensed he'd made a mistake there after the absolutely beaming smile he received from Andy. He felt like maybe his earlier hypothesis regarding not quite wholly platonic intentions from his mediwizard needed to be looked at again. 

"That was a very brave thing you did today, Harry" Andy ventured, "Auror Goldstein was telling us about it after you were admitted. It's truly an honour to help you in whatever way we can" the hand on shoulder returned and the thumb started making feather light circles on his skin. 

"Uhhh..." excellent Harry. Really. Top notch. Where did you learn these brilliant oratory skills? 

"Maybe after you're discharged, I can..."

"Mediwitch Jenkins! There you are. We're short-staffed on Creature Induced Injuries. Thank you for prepping Mr Potter but I'll take it from here." Came a sharp voice from the doorway. A voice Harry could recognise even if he was 6 ft under. 

"Healer Malfoy, sorry I thought you had... "

"No time, Jenkins. No time at all. Off with you now come on. Chop chop" 

Jenkins scuttled away - throwing a regretful look towards Harry and Malfoy came further into view. 

He looked. Well frankly - he looked like he had crawled out of bed 2 seconds ago. His normally neatly combed hair was looking sleep mussed on one side and hastily forced down on the other. His lime green Healer robes were misbuttoned. He was holding a patient file (Harry assumed his own) in one hand and a leather satchel in the other. The whole picture looked very off. 

He put the satchel down and quickly started rifling through the patient file. Harry waited a few seconds to be acknowledged. And when no acknowledgement was forthcoming, he decided to gently start a non-confrontational, non-offensive conversation around a safe subject. 

"Malfoy. You look like death" Shit. 

Malfoy's eyes shot up, narrowed and his lips pursed.  
"Not looking your best yourself Potter. Do try to get through a day without ending up in hospital would you? I'm really quite fed up."

"Oh well sorry to inconvenience you, Healer Malfoy. It must be so troublesome to have responsible members of society doing their jobs result in a need for you to do yours"

Malfoy's grey eyes were spitting fire at Harry and he was gripping the patient file so tightly his knuckles had gone completely white. 

"Potter - you. you... never mind. Fuck. What am I even doing here?" The last was muttered more to himself than Harry and really it threw Harry off completely. Malfoy was clearly exhausted and in no mood to be exchanging quick fire insults with him. Harry decided to maybe try to curb the inane part of his brain that lived off of entering shouting matches with this man. 

"Look, Malfoy." Malfoy stopped rubbing his hand over his eyes and looked at Harry critically. "You look about ready to collapse and I don't want to trade insults necessarily. I think it's mostly just habit at this point." It was working - Malfoy's eyes were softening. "Umm.. Andy was saying" at Andy's name his eyes narrowed "he was saying Healer Bones would be seeing me?"

"She can't." Malfoy said quickly. "What I mean is.. we're under-staffed. On Potions and Plant Poisoning - so um, she's there. Taking care of a err... tentacula bite." 

And then - "do you think I'd be here if I didn't have to be, Potter?" 

"I thought it was Creature Induced Injuries"

"Pardon?"

"Where you were under-staffed. That's what you said when you came in earlier...."

"Oh. Well yes. There too. Just a deplorable lack of qualified people across this hospital, Potter. What are you? An auditor? I could be doing a veritable mountain of work that would be infinitely more useful to society than having this conversation with you. So can we please just patch you up so you can feed your hero complex tomorrow and likely end up exactly where you are now?"

"Jesus, Malfoy, what is your problem? Fine. Let's get this over with. The numbing salve is wearing off anyway"

"Excellent." Malfoy took his wand out of his sleeve, set up a quick vital screen above Harry's bed and quickly got going on the skin regrowth. It took approximately 20 minutes of feeling a constant prickling under Harry's skin but he was damned if he was going to give a single reaction to Healer Grumpy. When he had concluded, Malfoy called in a diminutive mediwitch, Clarissa, Clarice? Something like that. Gave Harry a stilted wave, told him to try to "stay away this time" and walked off. 

That was approximately 9pm, Harry reckoned. Clarice/Clarissa wasn't the chatty sort. Kind of shy and skittish really. She applied the constrainment charms, wrote in Harry's file. Asked him if he needed anything, he said no. And then she left. Leaving Harry to his thoughts. 

Which is why Harry was laying there, immobile, held down by constrainment charms so he didn't inadvertently rub the tender, newly grown skin on his arms and legs against the bed linen, pondering over why Malfoy had seen to all of his injuries ever since he'd been able. 

And just as Harry was drifting off to sleep - he knew that he'd be getting to the bottom of this in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two - it's less direct Harry-Draco interaction but provides background. 
> 
> As always - let me know thoughts!

"Mate - you know I've got your back but this seems like a reach to me" Ron said later that morning during a hospital visit after Harry explained his hypothesis. He was sitting in one of the distinctly uncomfortable and gaudily red hospital chairs next to Harry's bed. 

"It sounds ludicrous, I know, but trust me Ron, there's something off about this whole thing. I didn't notice until yesterday myself!" Harry pleaded. 

Ron continued to look sceptical, looking imploringly at his girlfriend, who smiled a little at his unspoken call for help. His girlfriend who was presently perched on the side of Harry's bed, spelling a spoon to feed him hospital drivel (his arms were still very much out of commission even though they felt absolutely fine - Clarissa/Clarice seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth). 

"Harry" Hermione ventured, gently, like she was approaching a skittish animal. "I read an article in the Daily Prophet 2 weeks ago about the brain drain the UK is suffering with regards to qualified healers. Apparently there's a gross pay and benefit differential between what healers get here compared to places like the US and France. So it's plausible that more than one department really is understaffed." 

Harry far preferred a scenario where St Mungo's was a fully functioning, excellent employer and where Malfoy had some nefarious plot that somehow required providing highly adequate medical attention to him, but as ever, Hermione sounded frustratingly reasonable and hard to argue with. 

"Who asked you anyway? Don't you have some archaic laws to abolish?" Harry grumbled in frustration - referencing Hermione's latest role at the Ministry. 

Ron shook his head and let out a little groan, "stop - don't get her started. Sexist, creature-phobic archaism is so heavily embedded in our constitution and trawling through the various laws every day leaves her so utterly disillusioned with us and our world, it's honestly heartbreaking."

There was silence. Hermione and Harry just stared at Ron like he'd grown another head. A spoonful of porridge stood midair between the bowl and Harry's mouth, dripping onto the napkin on his lap. 

A few seconds passed like that, and then, a stuttered "what?" from Ron, his ears turning red. 

"What on earth was that?" Harry asked. Don't get him wrong, Harry'd known Ron most of his life at this point - he was familiar with every part of his best friend. He was a smart guy, but his smartness didn't often manifest into insightful comments about injustices in the wizarding world. Maybe this was just a consequence of dating someone like Hermione. 

Ron's ears went redder, if that was even possible. His eyes flitting from Harry to Hermione and back again. 

"I listen." He mumbled 

Hermione, silent through this exchange, got up from her perch on the bed, walked over to her boyfriend and kissed him on his temple. 

"What was that for?" Ron's face was rivalling his hair at this point. Harry grinned. 

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know. Just thank you. For listening." Ron smiled up at her and she smiled down at him. 

"You guys need a minute?" Harry heckled from his bed. Then took the proffered bite of porridge just to make a point and to stop it dripping on him further. "I'll just be here - immobile, dying of hunger. But continue, please". 

There was a sound of a throat clearing from the doorway, 

"Thank you for that, Harry. Didn't quite want to interrupt but I'm running on a bit of a tight schedule and I have your discharge papers here." Healer Bones said, waving a sheath of papers from the doorway. 

Hermione's cheeks took on a peachy hue and Ron had now become part of the hospital chair he was sitting on. Harry really was enjoying this. Healer Bones strode purposefully into the room, Hermione returned to her spot on the bed and grabbed the floating bowl and spoon. She gave Ron's hand a squeeze before she went and it seemed to ground him somewhat, otherwise Harry was sure he would truly combust from the embarrassment of the last 5 minutes. 

"Sorry about that, Susan" Hermione volunteered 

"Never bother, Hermione - I'm glad you two are more vocal than you were at school. Really, two people more oblivious would be a mission to find". 

A muffled "Oh my God" came out of the round blob that was the chair-and-Ron. He looked especially blob-like because he appeared to now have his elbows resting on his knees and his hands covering his face. Oh Harry was enjoying this immensely. Continue, Healer Bones - please!! Maybe Ron really would disappear into a puff of red smoke. 

"Remember when Ron shacked up with Lavender, Susan? Hermione was utterly vicious" Harry prodded - just in case encouragement was needed. 

"Oh yes" Susan laughed, her eyes went to Ron's hunched form, and there was a distinct hint of mischief in them as she continued, "although - Ronald and Lavender were a distinctly unpleasant proposition for the best of us. I'm fairly sure their faces were welded together for most of that term!" 

Harry snorted. Even Hermione let out a chuckle and Ron looked up with utter misery written all over his face. 

"I beg you, stop."

"Lucky for you, Ron, I truly do need to stop - I wasn't joking about the tight schedule." Susan said, rather regretfully and moved on to spelling a vitals check above Harry's bed, after a murmured "May I?" followed by a nod from Harry. 

Harry felt the regret acutely. Moments like these always felt brilliantly normal to him - trading normal stories about friends-who-liked-each-other-but-didn't-say from one's School Days, with an old school mate one randomly comes across. No hint of Dark Lords or wars or difficult childhoods! He'd even forgotten about the Malfoy Mystery (now not quite a mystery courtesy Hermione Know-it-All Granger and the Daily Report-It-All Prophet). 

Hermione was following Susan's wand movements and looking over at Harry's vitals with a steady concentration. Harry smiled a bit at that - every conceivable profession was desperate for Hermione Granger to shack up with them after leaving school. She honestly had her pick - she was such a prized commodity; part of the Golden Trio plus the smartest, savviest of the three of them. Harry could say that with no malice and just pure pride because he knew that they were nothing without her. She chose to enter the bureaucratic jungle that was the Ministry of Magic, as a junior level employee. She had done the rounds for her first year, spent time in all the departments before settling down as an aide to the Minister for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. 

7 months ago there was a case of a man who claimed he had bought a Veela from her mate for the price of 3 galleons and 7 sickles that threw the archaism of their society into harsh focus. The sale had been part of crass banter during a pub night between 2 very drunk men but in the cold light of day the "buyer" had wanted to go ahead. Naturally, the "seller" wanted nothing to do with it, which had propelled Mr Buyer to come knocking on the DMLE's office. 

Harry had been on the case and he remembers his horror at finding there was a law, dating back to 1706 that said that any verbal agreement between wizards on the sale or resale of magical creatures had to be upheld. There was an utterly distasteful price guide as well, with Veela top of the list at 3 Galleons and 7 Sickles, provided she is "of good health and strong breeding". It was sickening. Law being the law they could do nothing but let it happen for the 3 months it took to repeal the damned thing and rescue her. It opened a door that Hermione charged through though. She was now on lease to the Wizengamot, looking through the constitution and ensuring that all outdated laws were brought into the Ministry's line of sight so that something like this never happened again. And evidently, there were a lot of them. 

"All done, Harry. You are officially free to go. Although, lovely as it is to see you - I do wish you'd visit less often" Susan grinned. Harry grinned back. It was a popular joke, that one. She ended the constrainment charms and Harry fairly bounded out of bed. 

An echo of "thanks Susan" sounded in the room from its 3 occupants. Harry's possessions appeared on his bedside, he grabbed them and walked into the en-suite. 

He could hear conversation from the other side of the door once he was in and as he was pulling his jeans on, he heard Hermione's voice  
"Sorry to have kept you so long, I hope you're not too overworked."

"Oh no, don't worry", he heard Susan's more booming voice, "Healer Russell is on maternity leave from today so I've taken her lists in the morning. It's just made for a busier morning than usual but nothing too strenuous" 

"Oh, that's not too bad", Hermione again, "I wondered if maybe the under-staffing issues were the reason. I read in the Prophet..."

"Oh yes - terrible isn't it? We're lucky, those of us who got placed at St Mungo's - it's a much better work environment and we don't see as much of it. But I hear some regional hospitals are having to merge with others to get a reasonably well equipped staff!" 

Harry smiled. Malfoy Mystery was back on. He felt a wave of anticipation as he washed his face and brushed his teeth before going back out into the room. 

Ron was sitting in his chair, Hermione perched on one of its arms and they were collectively looking through an outdated Witch Weekly open on Ron's lap. They looked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening. 

Hermione peered suspiciously at Harry's gleeful expression,

"You heard that, did you?"

"Yep!" Harry beamed at her, before settling on the side of the bed to put on his shoes. 

"Mate, it sounds fishy - I grant you that, but it's possible she just doesn't want to air St Mungos' dirty laundry in public?" From Ron

"Didn't mind airing everyone else's though, did she? It's fishy Ron and I'm gonna look into it" 

"Harry..." Hermione cautioned. 

"Don't worry Mione," Harry consoled - "I won't do anything stupid"

A snort from Ron at that, "I will bet you everything I have, that you most definitely will"

Harry grabbed his bag and they strolled out of the hospital room together, signed him out at reception, where Harry made absolutely zero eye contact with Edna and went out into the bright London sunshine. Nothing like a good mystery to put you in the mood for the day ahead!

\--------

"You said you wouldn't do anything stupid!!!" Hermione almost-shouted accusingly, 3 days later, during their customary weekly dinner. This week on a Friday because the rest of the week was undoable given their busy schedules and Harry's unplanned stint at the hospital. They were in a booth at a local pub near where Hermione and Ron lived, in Islington. Close enough to their place in case the night took them to a level of inebriation which factored apparition out of the equation. The booth was snugly settled into a corner of the pub, but Hermione's banshee like shriek had probably alerted the entire neighbourhood. Not that it mattered really - a Muggle pub in a Muggle neighbourhood hardly made for the kind of crowd that would care for this kind of information. 

"Mione! Keep your voice down" he said anyway - just to get one up on her. 

She looked suitably chastised at that, 

"Sorry", and then quieter "you said you wouldn't do anything stupid!!" 

"Yes well - I intend to uphold that, but before I can *do* anything - I need to know if there's anything to do something about don't I?"

"Maybe we should wait til Ron gets back before we talk about this" 

As if on queue, Ron slid into the booth next to her, settled their drinks on the table and the receipt in the middle. He'd become remarkably skilled at dealing with Muggles over the years. It was out of necessity more than anything else - they were very recognisable wherever they went and though for the most part, people had allowed them to move on from the roles they played in the Second Wizarding War; dining in Wizarding London was still out of the question if you didn't want to be approached at least once or twice. 

"Talk about what?" Ron said, before taking a giant slug from his ale. 

"Harry wants us to land him back at St Mungo's so he can test his theory"

The slug of ale promptly made its way back out of Ron's mouth at that. Right onto the table and also on to Harry's jumper. And a little bit on his cheek too. Brilliant. 

"Fuck's sake Ron!!!" Harry exclaimed. 

Hermione was openly laughing as she lifted her glass of wine with her left hand, discreetly spelled the damage away from the table with her wand in her right, and placed her wineglass back down. She left the ale on Harry's jumper and cheek as it was though - cheeky bint. 

"Sorry" Ron said - not sorry at all. Bastard. Harry wiped his face with his napkin. 

"Run your masterful plan by me, please. It sounds top quality, I must say" 

Harry knew this would end in no good things but Ron was the weaker link in this Ron-Hermione equation and he had more options after this so really, he had little doubt his plan would come to light. 

"I want you to hex me. Or punch me. Anything. Basically just do something that lands me in St Mungo's. If I end up with Malfoy again, I'll know I'm right and I can proceed accordingly." 

"You're an idiot" Hermione said just as Ron said "blimey - you really are off your rocker, aren't you Harry?" 

"I take it that's a no?"

"It's a no" and "goodness sake, Harry, of course it's a no!" He knew that was coming to be honest. He just wanted to keep them in the loop for when he turned up at St Mungo's with a largely self inflicted injury. Didn't want to cause undue worry. Although the way they were looking at him now, that ship seemed to have sailed. 

Time to change the subject, Harry. 

"When are you two going to Australia again?" Harry asked, he knew the answer but a drastic topic change was in order and a shift in the balance. Ron was very unsure about Australia because he was going to be meeting Hermione's parents as an adult for the first time. An adult who was dating their daughter. Very seriously. 5 years together and this milestone still hadn't been crossed. And besides, shopping for school supplies in Diagon Alley when they were 12 hardly allowed for a get-to-know-each-other session. They likely didn't even remember Ron, or worse, recognised him as Arthur's son and would run the other way at first sight lest he turn out to be as invasively Muggle-curious as him. 

Harry had met them after the war when he had accompanied Hermione to Australia to return their memories. She would have liked Ron to have come with, but the Weasleys were struggling with their own grief at the time and it hadn't seemed appropriate. It was a time laced with sadness and Harry was glad Ron hadn't been there. Mr and Mrs Granger had decided to stay on in Australia, and their relationship with Hermione remained strained over the years. She did what was necessary to save their lives but she had stripped them of their free will to decide - something they hadn't quite forgiven her for. That's why the trips she'd made over the last 5 years were all alone. Harry knew she was going to try to convince them to move back this time around. 

"Oh Harry - you know when. A week on Monday" Hermione replied. "Early morning portkey to Guangzhou, stopping there for a day before taking a portkey from there to Melbourne. I'm a bit scared but good scared. Giddy. Excited. I don't know! Oh god listen to me - I sound deranged" she went a bit pink when she finished. 

Harry laughed, "you sound happy, actually! I'm really excited for you! How're you holding up, Ron?" 

Hermione looked sideways at her boyfriend. He was looking slightly green come to think of it. 

"I don't think I've ever been this afraid in my life, thanks for asking" Ron grumbled. 

"Oh shush" Hermione chided. She held his hand "you'll be great. They're just people, you know."

"Yeah. People. Just people. They're your parents and they're gonna want you to be with someone better than me! I work in a joke shop for fucks sake" 

Harry knew he'd brought it up to shift the heat onto Ron but he was feeling a bit bad about that now, watching Ron tear their food receipt into tiny strips of paper. 

"Ron - you're a decorated war hero. Who works in a joke shop. That he also part owns. Plus you're funny and kind of bumbly. But in an endearing way. They're gonna love you" Harry ventured. 

Ron didn't look convinced, "you make me sound like a crup..."

Harry's response was left on his lips as the waiter brought their food. Fish and chips for him and Ron and some sort of quiche (why?) for Hermione. 

"That looks disgusting" Ron said, staring down at Hermione's plate 

"Nobody's asking you to eat it, are they? Go stuff your face full of grease and let me live"

"Yes please" Ron grinned and stuffed 3 chips in his mouth in one go. 

Harry smiled fondly at his best friends. His smile turning into a full blown grin when he heard Hermione mutter "uncouth" watching Ron shovel chips into his mouth. Harry was 70% certain he was doing it just to piss her off. 

"Just remember to eat like a human being when you meet my parents and you'll be fine." She said before cutting a neat corner off her quiche and taking a bite. 

"I'll fetch them their paper and lick at their boots, ask to be taken for walks and regular tummy rubs - it's fine. I now know how to play to my strengths" Ron replied jovially. 

Harry and Hermione laughed.

They were going to be just fine. 

\------- 

"You've lost your mind, Harry. I feared this day would come and here it is"

Harry was walking beside Neville in the Forbidden Forest in search of leaping toadstools for his 2nd years. Not his ideal Saturday morning but he thought he'd have better luck if he sweetened Neville up before asking. 

He needn't have bothered. 

"Oh come on Nev!! You deal with a shit ton of magical plants with weird properties. Gimme something that won't kill me but will, I don't know, give me a rash or a headache or something. Not bubotuber pus though - those boils hurt like a motherfucker."

"Harry - putting aside the fact that this will most likely get me fired, if anyone found out, I also don't want to encourage this unhealthy obsession of yours."

"I'm not a child", Harry grumbled

"I'll believe that when you stop acting like one. Mind your head"

Just as Harry looked to see what he ought to be minding his head from, a swinging aerial root hit him over the back of it, and he fell face first into the dirt with an "oumph" mumbled into the earth. 

"Oh my god - are you okay?"

"Yeah" Harry said, getting up and patting down his jeans - now sporting a fine shade of brown instead of the faded blue of 10 seconds ago. He ran a hand over the back of his skull - he reckoned there would be a bump there tomorrow. 

"Do you think if I stand here, it'll do that again. Maybe a bit harder?"

"You're insane." Neville exclaimed, shaking his head. "You can't explain to the Forbidden Forest that you only want an injury that needs medical attention but isn't fatal and doesn't hurt too much because you want a certain Healer to attend to you seeing as how you're suffering some sort of regression to 6th year" 

"I never liked you."

"Neither did I. Now hurry up so we can get these before Gin gets home."

"And for the record, I was right in 6th year"

"Yes dear. Hurry along now"

Harry cursed the day he laid eyes on Neville Longbottom. 

Approximately 40 minutes later, Harry was utterly grateful for Neville Longbottom. He was sitting on a sofa evidently made of clouds in Neville's living room, eating homemade carrot cake and having a well steeped cuppa. Neville was standing at his desk, with a mug of tea in one hand, making a note in the margins of a very tattered and dogeared edition of "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi"

"Neville dear - I do so hate when you bring your work home with you." Harry called out 

Neville snorted, shut the book and walked over to the seat opposite Harry.  
"Like the cake?"

"Honestly - one of the best things I've ever put in my mouth"

Neville flushed at the compliment. Harry realised he really didn't make enough time for his mate (or his cakes) and decided to do better in the future. 

"When's Ginny back?" He asked 

Neville peered up at the magical clock that had his and Ginny's names on with a number of non-time related segments. Wedding present from Molly. Ginny's hand was still pointing at Training. She was due back but the Quidditch season had only just got going and her training programme with the Holyhead Harpies had taken on new vigour. 

He and Neville spent some time catching up - Neville told stories about his students, Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and Harry shared tales about work, London, the Ministry and when they next looked at the time it had been an hour. He hadn't even noticed. He really should visit more. A second later, the Ginny hand on the clock shifted from "Training" to "Traveling" and two seconds after that, there was a pop outside and the sound of a key turning in the lock. 

Ginny walked in with a bellowed "Neville? I'm home!"

"In here, Gin" Neville called. 

There was rustling as kit was thrown about and Ginny walked into the living room still looking a bit red from what was undoubtedly a very physically exerting morning. 

"Oh hey Harry" Ginny said. She gave Neville a peck on the cheek and went over to give Harry a hug, before settling down on the sofa next to him. 

"Hey Ginny! How was training?"

"Painful. As always. I think maybe Neville needs to stop making cakes or I'm never going to be fit enough for my job." 

"If Neville stops making cakes, I'll stop coming over."

Neville laughed. Harry didn't understand what was funny. He was dead serious. That carrot cake truly was heaven. 

The three of them bantered back and forth for another half hour before Harry had to take his leave. But before he went, he asked if he could speak to Ginny alone. Neville didn't even bat an eyelid which in itself was the polar opposite of how things were when Nev and Ginny first got together. Harry and she'd been broken up about 6 months and Neville felt a tad bit insecure. It hadn't worked out - which was reasonable as most relationships don't but a lot of people were rooting for this one so the aftermath dragged on for some time. They still loved each other, just not how they once did. Neville suspected he might be in for heartache for a long time - until Harry got a boyfriend and he concluded that Harry was too bent to stay with Ginny. Harry dated two women after that but he reckons Neville had sized up the situation for what it was by that point. 

Harry said bye to Nev and he and Ginny walked behind the house to Neville's herb garden. 

Harry gave her an abridged version of his hypothesis and his luck struck gold because Ginny was positively delirious with excitement. 

"OH MY GOD, yes!! I haven't bat bogeyed anyone in so long and I was really missing it. Can I bat bogey you into St Mungo's??"

Harry's smile wavered in the face of Ginny's excitement - no one should be that keen to inflict physical pain... 

"Yeah Gin, sure. ...Just don't kill me yeah?" He didn't think that needed clarifying but better safe than sorry.

Right at that moment, Harry heard the front door slam, followed by Neville storming out into the garden. 

"Harry James Potter, you better not be trying to convince my wife to cause you injury" 

Harry looked around for the extendable ears that Neville must have been using to spy on them. Ginny was doing the same. It looked like Neville had just put two and two together actually. Dammit all. 

"She says she doesn't mind!" Harry pleaded

"Of course she doesn't - she's a bigger nutter than you are!"

"Oi!" Ginny exclaimed. 

Neville turned to Ginny, "you are not doing that. It's immoral and weird and stupid and over-indulgent. Absolutely not."

Harry could see Ginny rearing for an argument and suddenly it didn't seem worth it. He didn't want to start a domestic and so, heart heavy, he called time of death on his master plan. 

"Yeah - it's dumb. Never mind Gin, dunno what I was thinking. Nev's right and definitely don't fight over my lunacy. Anyway - I really ought to go now. See you guys later." He gave Ginny a peck on the cheek, gave Neville a one armed hug and apparated right from the herb garden back home. 

\-------

Harry landed right in the middle of the living room in Grimmauld Place. It wasn't even lunch time yet but he was in a dark mood and went straight for the liquor cabinet. He took a bottle of firewhiskey up to Sirius' room - his room of choice when it came to daytime drinking and being miserable. It was also the only room in the house with any resemblance to how it was before Harry's brutal renovations 3 years ago. Before that, he lived with Ron in the Islington flat. When Ron and Hermione decided to move in together, he had to find alternative accommodation. Grimmauld was meant to be a temporary arrangement seeing as the property market wasn't looking so great at the time (or so they told him) but then he decided to make a go of it. Most of the things had to go, although he suspected Kreacher was probably hoarding a few of the truly abhorrent items in his room in the attic. Harry shuddered at the thought of an attic full of house elf heads...

Harry necked some firewhisky and felt it burn down his throat. Now it was a house that breathed, there was light and comfort. Darkness still lingered in parts and Sirius' room was exactly the same (except for the photo of the Marauders - Harry had drunkenly singed the image of Wormtail one night) but other than that, Grimmauld seemed like home now. Even Kreacher seemed like home. Still resolutely resisting the offer of clothes even though he was well and truly past retirement age, Harry reckoned. He mostly cared for himself and at the very least helped Kreacher with the chores but the elf was bound to the Black family and Harry, for his sins, was its heir. 

Suddenly a light bulb went off in Harry's head. Kreacher!! A house elf living in self imposed subservience and physically compelled to do Harry's bidding. Why had he been asking his friends when the answer was right here at home? He really should start drinking in the afternoon more often, clearly it was when he did his best work. 

Harry took one more gulp out of the bottle, then made his way downstairs. He returned the bottle to the cabinet after aiming a mild cleaning charm at the mouth. 

"Kreacher!" He called. 

The house elf popped into existence in front of Harry not 2 seconds later 

"Master Harry is summoning Kreacher?"

"Yes. Hello. I want you to do something for me please."

"Yes Master Harry?" 

Harry knew he had to be as specific as possible with his command otherwise Kreacher would find a loophole. He looked around, keeping an eye out for anything that could be used as a weapon. If there was a voice in his head questioning why he was going this, Harry quashed it. It was obvious he was doing this for science. For answers. His eyes fell upon the troll leg umbrella stand. Why hadn't he thrown that away, he wondered. Momentarily glad for that lapse in judgement, Harry looked his aged house elf in the eye and said, very clearly 

"Kreacher, I would like you to drop that troll leg umbrella stand directly on to my foot. Then take me to St Mungo's and tell them it fell by accident. I don't want you to punish yourself, I will be back by tonight." asking this was especially funny when Harry remembered what Kreacher had been like when they'd first met. If Harry had made this request during the Order's days, he's fairly certain Kreacher would have dropped the entire ceiling on his head with a smile so wide it would threaten to split his face in two. 

As it was, he looked incredibly unwilling. Kreacher's eyes had widened comically. He sputtered a few times, and ventured slowly with a "but Master..." even as Harry saw the umbrella stand lift up into the air and move towards him. 

"I know. It's bonkers. Just trust me on this. And do it quickly". Harry closed his eyes and waited for the impact. He didn't have to wait long. The bulk of the troll leg landed and an excruciating pain bloomed in his foot. He instantly knew he'd broken at least one toe. He also instantly knew he should have been sitting down for this. Harry promptly collapsed and landed on his bum. 

"Motherfuckingshitbollocksfuckityfuckfuck" he nearly wept with the pain of it. 

Kreacher was beside himself "Harry Potter asked Kreacher to do this, Kreacher is no longer wishing him pain. He is sorry. He must be punished. But Harry Potter ordered for Kreacher not to punish..." the mutterings continued. 

Harry wheezed out a response, "no punishment Kreacher, you did well. Now please take me to St Mungo's."

Kreacher held Harry's hand and a second later they appeared in the St Mungo's reception. In no position to walk to the reception desk, Harry was grateful his presence had been noted by a passing mediwizard. A few minutes later he was being tranported to an empty bed from a levitating stretcher by two mediwitches. One gave him a pain potion, which he inhaled, sighing as the pain in his foot receded, while the other shot some questions his way, and wrote in his patient file. Short-staffed, Harry's hairy arse!! The place had more professionals than patients! 

Realising Kreacher was stood in the doorway, Harry sent him home. Reminded him about the no punishment rule and requested spaghetti bolognese for dinner. With a new duty, Kreacher looked calmer on exit. 

Harry laid back and waited. His bad foot was magically elevated and he could hardly feel anything at all. He was almost about to doze off when he heard a familiar voice 

"Back so soon, Potter?". 

Harry smiled. Bingo. 

"Hello Draco"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's attempts to get Malfoy's attention continue their slow path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is proving a slower moving fic than I envisaged (primarily because I'm enjoying writing it so much). Little more Harry-Draco interaction in this one and some more characters thrown into the mix!

"Didn't I just get rid of you, Potter? Why are you here again?" Malfoy looked faintly exasperated and 100% more put together than he did last time Harry had seen him. His robes looked pristine, his hair gelled back, his face looking youthful and well-rested. He looked.... good. Very good, in fact. Harry checked that thought swiftly before it ran away with him. 

"Sorry, Malfoy," Harry replied, cheerily, "dropped a pretty heavy thing on my foot by mistake. Fairly sure I've broken a toe or two"

Malfoy approached the bed and cast an X-ray screen on Harry's foot. Harry was no healer but he could definitely see at least 2 breaks. In all honesty, he probably preferred broken bones to other forms of injury - fixing a fracture was brutally painful for a full minute after the procedure was performed but the pain began to dissipate nearly instantly, leaving a highly manageable ache in its wake. 

"Very well diagnosed, Potter. Must've been quite something you dropped on yourself"

"Such as, say, a... troll-leg umbrella stand?"

And then something spectacular happened. Malfoy actually smiled. With teeth. And sincerity. A toothy, sincere smile directed at Harry. This had honestly happened a sum total of fuck-all times in Harry's life and he was inordinately pleased about it. It felt remarkably like progress. 

"That sounds horrendous! My great Aunt had one of those actually - it was utterly revolting"

"You know what, Malfoy? I suspect it was the very same one. Your great aunt being the delightful Walburga, I gather?"

A full body shudder from Malfoy confirmed that statement. It appeared to be the universal reaction to Walburga Black. Unless you were her house elf. Harry saw a tableau of expressions flit through Malfoy's eyes, from surprise to confusion to dawning realisation. 

"You aren't telling me you live in that horrid townhouse, Potter? Why would anyone do that to themselves?"

"I am and I do. It's looking a lot better these days. Walburga is still awful as ever but I've found a few strong silencing charms aimed at her portrait and a thick curtain to cover it, and you'll hardly know she's there. My house elf probably airs her out while I'm at work but we operate a don't-ask-don't-tell policy."

Malfoy laughed at that, and this was altogether too much toothy sincerity for Harry to know what to do with. It had also entirely escaped him that Malfoy would have a connection to Grimmauld that predated Harry's. His evidently negative impression of it from then also heartened Harry - he'd have bloody loved it if he truly was the evil git he pretended to be back at school. 

"I haven't thought about my barmy old Aunt or that moody little elf for years! I can't believe he's still around! You're absolutely mad for living there, Potter, but I don't know why I'm surprised." Malfoy was shaking his head (Harry wanted to think, he was shaking his head fondly but this much positive energy between the two of them would likely lead to a seismic shift in the course of the universe and Harry couldn't have that on his conscience). 

"It really isn't that bad anymore Malfoy - come visit if you don't believe me" and just like that, the smile disappeared and Malfoy's open expression closed down completely. Didn't take a genius to conclude he'd maybe overstepped there. A heavy silence followed and Harry was at a loss on how best to proceed. He wasn't sure whether the truce had ended or simply been...suspended. He didn't want to say anything for fear of scaring Malfoy away either. 

"Let's get those toes healed then Auror Potter." Malfoy said, his back a bit straighter, his demeanour altogether more professional than it had ever been. 

"Yes. Okay. Thanks." Harry responded stiltedly. 

Malfoy tapped his wand against his thigh as he looked over Harry's x-rays again and then aimed his wand at first one toe, then the next, spell casting with intense concentration. Harry's foot glowed faintly blue before his phalanges realigned themselves with a hideous cracking sound. He gripped the sheets, scrunched his eyes closed and bit down on his lip hard to keep from groaning in agony. He stayed this way for a full 30 seconds and as he knew it would, the pain started to recede. Harry blinked open his eyes and saw Malfoy peering down at him with an expression of concern on his face. When he made eye contact with Harry, he schooled it back into indifference but the brief moment of gentleness warmed Harry none-the-less. 

"Thank you", Harry croaked. 

"That's the job - Potter. No thanks necessary. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to attend to." 

Against his better judgement, Harry quickly called out 

"Would you like to go for lunch sometime?"

Malfoy turned back around slowly - his expression one of incredulousness. His eyes had gone very wide - were they grey or a very light blue, Harry wondered? Then he told his brain to shut up. 

"Pardon?"

"You've been my Healer 5 times now. I think I ought to thank you properly. I mean - you do eat don't you?"

"I do but this is my job Potter. You don't need to thank me and you certainly don't need to feed me. If you do insist on showing me gratitude, I'd request you did it by treating your health and your life a little less carelessly. Now, I should be going. Good day to you."

This time, he walked out with intent before Harry could even formulate a plan to formulate a response. 10 seconds later Clarissa/Clarice walked in, fussed about a little bit then she too disappeared after saying something about Harry being free to leave as soon as the pain had left his bad foot. He thought she said it would take another hour but he wasn't sure. That girl really ought to speak up more, he thought, rather unkindly. 

Harry wanted to take Malfoy for lunch. He hadn't wanted that until Malfoy had turned him down and now it seemed imperative that it happen. All things considered, the first part of his plan had gone quite well. He didn't know what his plan was, but Malfoy was certainly up to something and he was going to find out what it was. And if he heard Neville's voice in his head telling him he was regressing into his 6th year self - he decided to ignore it. 

20 minutes later, despite a slight twinge, Harry got up and hobbled out of the hospital. He still made no eye contact with Edna as he signed himself out, but decided to send her a fruit basket or something - he was becoming quite a regular at St Mungo's and he really couldn't carry on avoiding her. 

\-------

Harry sat in Grimmauld, considering his options. His biggest strength was his persistence and Draco Malfoy was a fool if he thought he could stay shot of Harry forever. Having said that, Harry definitely didn't want Malfoy to hate him - and wasn't that a realisation and a half? When he had a spare minute, he really ought to address this about-turn his feelings were performing. If he was honest with himself, he had probably stopped hating the pointy bastard when he saw him with his parents, shaking like a leaf in the Great Hall, after the Battle. He'd realised that they were all just kids. None of them were supposed to be any more than that. But war forces you into roles and Draco happened to be on the wrong side of it all. There in the Great Hall, Harry's eyes had met Narcissa's for a fleeting second and a moment of acknowledgement had passed between them. Malfoy was many things, but his loyalty to family couldn't be faulted. So in the end it was just unlucky that he was landed with parents who prescribed to the narrative of a mass-murdering megalomaniac. Not that that absolved him - he still made bad choices but Harry wasn't sure he wouldn't have made the same ones in that situation. 

So what's a bloke who wanted to make amends with his ex-arch nemesis supposed to do? There was a mountain of baggage to trawl through if he wanted to actually be friends with Malfoy but that was maybe going too far. For now, all he wanted was an answer to why he'd taken Harry's medical needs upon himself. Mostly. And that required a proper conversation, unless Harry could get him to discuss his work with an unassuming 3rd party while he hovered in the background covered by his invisibility cloak. No, he chastised his brain. That would be a true regression to 6th year and he really needed to show some maturity here. That could be Plan B. Maybe he'd start simple - like sending Malfoy an owl. Except he didn't have an owl. After Hedwig, it just never felt right. You don't replace a lost friend, you carry their memory with you forever. That's what Hedwig was to him - a friend; another friend who'd died saving his life. That would be a lot for her successor to live up to, so Harry just hadn't bothered. He normally borrowed from Ron, but he didn't quite want to discuss his half baked plans yet. He'd borrowed Pig before, he reckoned if he just kept it vague and immaterial, he might just get away with it. Right, Harry. Let's get you an owl. 

He knelt at the fireplace and floo called Ron and Hermione. He found the living room empty and so he shouted out their names. 

"Coming" he heard Hermione answer back almost instantly. 

"Oh hello Harry" she walked into the living room looking like he'd caught her bang in the middle of a fairly ferocious spring clean. Her sleeves were rolled up, her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and several unruly curls had come undone and stuck to her forehead courtesy a faint sheen of sweat. Plus there was a streak of dirt across her cheek. 

"Hey Mione, you okay? You are? Great. Good talk. How's Ron? Good, good. Sorry to trouble but would you mind terribly if I borrow Pig for a quick delivery?" 

Hermione's eyes had gone wide as an owls. Ironically. Harry reckoned he may have failed to keep his cool just a tad. 

"Um yes. He's flown out but I'll send him to you when he gets back?"

"Ta. Talk soon, bye" and with that Harry pulled his head out of the fireplace. That could have gone better, he thought. Never mind. The job was done. 

Next, Harry went into his study, grabbed a self-inking quill and some clean parchment from the top drawer and settled down to pen his note. 

'Malfoy,' he started. Then on a whim vanished the ink and wrote 'Draco' instead. That felt funny so he reverted back to 'Malfoy,' 

'Malfoy,

How're you doing mate?'

MATE? No. definitely not. Too familiar. Malfoy would probably think he'd gone round the bend. Hell, he thought he'd gone round the bend! Harry vanished the writing again. The poor piece of parchment was looking slightly worse for wear after the harsh treatment of Harry's spell casting. Harry decided to pen a draft and copy the final version onto a pristine bit of paper before sending it.

'Malfoy,

Hope you're well.' 

Too formal. Maybe he shouldn't bother with niceties and go straight for the main message. He needed a drink, he decided. Harry went to the fridge, uncapped a bottle of beer, took a few slugs and returned to his desk. He took a deep breath and started again. 

'Malfoy,

I know we have our differences, but school was a long time ago and maybe it's time we moved on. The war has affected us all and...' 

Stop, stop, stop! What was the matter with him? You didn't say shit like this in a letter. He could just imagine this ridiculous note in a glass case in some wizarding museum 200 years from now, 

"Harry Potter's letter to his arch-nemesis-turned-acquaintance-turned-would-be-friend-who-wanted-nothing-to-do-with-him, where he pleads for reconciliation, dated c2004"

"Fuck that", Harry muttered , taking another swig from the bottle. Maybe he ought to wait for inspiration to strike. Harry looked over at the clock hanging on the wall opposite him - it was barely even 4pm and to think he'd picked flying toadstools in the Forbidden Forest, nearly started a domestic, broken his toes, had his toes fixed and attempted to dine with a man he once thought his sworn enemy (well, one of them anyway). Just then, perhaps to remind him of a few things he hadn't done, his stomach rumbled. Right, lunch. He had essentially consumed 1 slice of carrot cake, 2 cups of tea, 2 sips of firewhiskey and a bottle of beer all day. Maybe he ought to feed himself something. It's like someone probably once said, "you can't think on an empty stomach" and if they hadn't, then maybe it's time someone did. 

Harry got up from his desk, walked through the living room, to the kitchen where Kreacher was looking through a magical catalogue, dictating to a floating quill and parchment. "300g lean mince, 2 cans chopped tomatoes, 500g spaghetti, garlic,..." he looked up from his task upon hearing Harry's arrival. His eyes traveled to Harry's sock clad feet and then back to his face. 

"Master is being better?" He croaked

"Much, thank you Kreacher." Harry responded evenly. He walked over to the worktop, standing next to Kreacher - about Harry's height standing on a foot-stool and 3 thick tomes from the library. Harry suspected they were from the pile he'd "thrown away" 3 years ago - looked suspiciously like the kind of books one looks through when one is in need of dark curses. Don't ask, don't tell.  
He rifled through the catalogue and rattled off a few random items - couple chocolate frogs and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. He could feel disapproval rolling off of Kreacher in waves as the quill noted down his requests. The quill and parchment disappeared and a receipt floated onto the worktop in its place. 

Harry next went to the fridge in search of something he could snack on. He grabbed bread, chicken, lettuce and cheese and dumped it onto the work top. He pulled a carton of orange juice in favour of more alcohol - he thought maybe he'd had enough. Harry walked over to the cupboards to grab a plate and glass, turning around only to see a fully made sandwich float over to him and settle onto his plate. Harry gave Kreacher an accusing look but he seemed to be avoiding eye contact. Harry wasn't sure who he was trying to fool, sandwiches didn't make themselves in this house. Or rather, they did, but they needed guidance to do it. 

"Thank you but you really need to let me do some things on my own, Kreacher" Harry said. 

"Master Harry is doing enough" Kreacher responded. The orange juice carton flew to Harry and poured neatly into his glass just to show how little he cared about Harry's request that he take it easy. 

"Thank you" Harry said, settling his plate and glass on the breakfast table, taking a seat and diving in almost instantly. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until he took that first bite and nearly groaned with the joy of it. If only he had the... and before he could finish that thought the Sports pages from the Saturday Prophet appeared on the table beside his plate. Harry grinned and threw another thanks Kreacher's way. 

20 minutes later, Harry was reading about the Falcons' keeper allegedly taking bribes from senior Ministry employees when he heard an impatient tapping against the kitchen window. He looked up to see Pidwidgeon's tiny body hovering just outside. He got up to let him in and as soon as he cracked the window open, the owl shot inside, flying excitedly all around the kitchen before landing in Harry's plate, nibbling happily at the crumbs. 

"Hey Pig" Harry greeted, rubbing beneath his neck feathers. He got a gentle hoot for his efforts. Harry untied the note from Pig's leg and went into his study, both to read it and to pen his own missive to Malfoy. 

"Come to the study when you're done with those" he called out to the owl who hooted back happily. 

Harry unrolled the tiny parchment and read Ron's messy scrawl 

'Harry,

Mione said you wanted Pig for a delivery. She also said you sounded like a lunatic... I don't know what you're up to mate but don't do anything stupid, yeah? More stupid than usual. See you at the Burrow tomorrow,

Ron

P.S. We've run out of Eeylops so if you have any throw some Pig's way, would you?'

Pig flew into the room and settled on the side of the desk. Harry threw open the middle drawer, pulled out a packet of Eeylops Premium Owl Treats and threw a couple down next to the fidgety little owl. 

He grabbed a quill and a clean bit of parchment, thought for two seconds and decided to just jump in 

'Malfoy,

Have lunch with me. I just want to talk. I'll keep asking until you say yes

HP'

He rolled and tied it to Pig's leg - stared the owl in the eye and said,

"To Draco Malfoy. And don't leave until he gives a reply. Bring it back here and I'll give you more of those treats you love. Got it?" Pig nipped at his fingers playfully. 

"Good boy. Off you go" - Harry walked to the far window in his study to let him out, watched him fly off into the distance before wandering off to help Kreacher with dinner and finish that article about Jeremy Bingleford's greasy palms. 

Much later, as Harry and Kreacher were watching Homes Under the Hammer on telly while eating spagbol (watching Muggles operate without magic provided Kreacher with too much amusement), Pig returned. Harry had left his study window open just a crack for him so he just soared straight into the living room, perching on the arm of the sofa Kreacher and Harry were occupying. Harry took the note from Pig's leg, offered him a bit of tomatoey mince but he turned his face the other way. Harry was pretty sure Eeylops laced their treats with crack cocaine. He'd placed the packet on the coffee table for just this eventuality and handed the picky owl 2 treats before unrolling the note. 

'HP,

No. Kindly fuck off. 

DM'

Hmm... Harry let out a disheartened sigh. This was hardly what he had hoped for. His disappointment quickly turned to heightened resolve though. Oh Malfoy, you fool. It is on. Harry was going to best this flighty bastard - he just didn't know how. Yet. 

\------

"Did you read that article about Bingleford?" Bill asked on Sunday as he, Ron, Percy and George were setting the picnic table for lunch. It was just about too cold to eat outdoors, seeing as September was just coming to a close, but the sun was shining bright and they'd made an impromptu decision. 

"He didn't do it" George said, as he transfigured a random assortment of garden paraphernalia into dining chairs. "The guy has the brain of a troll and the arms of a grindylow. He sees a quaffle and just tries to grab it with those lanky squid arms - probably doesn't even know what he's doing. No way he's got it in him to negotiate with ministers and take bribes"

"It's not hard though is it?", Ron volunteered. "Let that goal through, I'll give you some money. That doesn't need much brainpower" He was settling the plates Molly sent out on to the table. 

"The Ministry doesn't employ the kind of scum that would resort to this kind of.."

"Shut up Percy" Ron, George and Bill said in unison. 

Harry laughed. Percy looked right peeved off. 

"I just think the Ministry does a lot for us and we owe it to not cast aspersions on its employees based on some frivolous article."

A series of groans were heard across the dining table

"Learn from Harry, Perce. He works for the Ministry too, but he lets us cast aspersions on the wonderfully exceptional people who work there" Bill argued

"Oh no no no" Harry responded - "you aren't dragging me into this. You're all gonna go your own way after all of this, I see Percy every day at work. You guys have got this under control looks like, gonna see if they need me inside. Nice try though."

Harry went through the garden into the kitchen were Molly was busy doing approximately 3000 things at once. There were potatoes being peeled on her left, chicken being basted on her right. Napkins were folding into delicate looking swans behind her among a dozen other moving parts. 

"Need any help Molly?"

"Oh Harry dear, you're lovely. I've got this all under control here though. I'll need you to toss a fresh salad in a bit, but go on inside and relax." 

Harry turned to walk further into the house, into the living room where Arthur and Hermione were having a very intense discussion (likely about work) on one side, while Fleur and a heavily pregnant Angelina tried to coax 2 year old Victoire into her jumper. "No" was her favourite word these days and so most things had to be done against her explicit wishes. Just as Harry was about to enter the fray and try to convince Vic that "yes" she did want to wear her jumper, the doorbell rang. Arthur made to get up but Harry stopped him with a quick "I've got it" before heading for the front door. 

No sooner had Harry opened the door; that a whirlwind hit him head on, with a shouted "Uncle Harry!" Teddy's hair immediately switched from the regular placid mousy brown to jet black and unruly. 

"Hey Ted, hey Andy" Harry stood to the side, Teddy still wrapped around his middle, to let Andromeda through. 

"Hello Harry. Move to one side for half a second Teddy, let me say hello to your uncle too"

Teddy disentangled from Harry reluctantly and let his grandmother give him a quick hug. Harry hugged back. The three walked back into the living room, closing the front door behind them. 

"Andromeda and the young Mr Lupin! Hello!" Arthur got up to greet the new guests. Teddy held out his hand to be shaken. Arthur took it, looking faintly amused. Teddy proceeded to shake everyone's hands. Except Victoire. She said "no" and walked off. He looked at her retreating back with mild disgust. Harry chuckled. 

Andy went directly into the kitchen to meet Molly and Teddy stayed behind with Harry, not wanting to stray too far. It had been a couple of weeks since Harry had seen him - he'd been on a field mission last week and this week had been an utter mess. At 5 years old, Teddy was almost a different person every time Harry met him, so to have spent 2 weeks away from him felt especially bad. 

"What's been goin on Ted?"

"Uncle Harry, I've made a new friend! He came to visit and he brought me dragon toys and he says he's my cousin"

Harry's heart rate marginally sped up. "Oh?" He said, keeping his voice calm. 

"Yes! And he shaked my hand and said that's how grownedups say hello and I'm 5 now so I shake hands too" 

"What's his name, Teddy?"

"Cousin...Dray-Co" Teddy carefully pronounced. Harry felt giddy. 

"He sounds real special mate. Is he gonna visit you again?" Harry felt a bit bad about using his godson like this, but he placated himself with the knowledge that Teddy had volunteered this information. And maybe, Harry's line of questioning would've been the same even if this new friend hadn't been Draco. 

"YES!" Teddy exclaimed and his jet black hair turned into a perfectly coiffed platinum blonde. Wow - Teddy really liked Malfoy it seemed. And the kid tended to be a good judge of character. Harry remembered when he took Teddy to work once and introduced him to Zach Smith - he had been quiet and reserved and told Harry he didn't like him back at Harry's office later that day. Teddy had always been a clever kid and if he liked Draco Malfoy, there must be something to like. 

"He said he'd visit for tea on Tuesday. And he'd bring me my favourite ice cream too!"

"That's really cool!" Harry said. "You wanna go outside and meet Uncles Ron and Bill? You can tell Bill all about your new dragons!"

Teddy beamed happily at the prospect of shaking more hands and telling people about his new toys. Especially Bill, seeing as his dragon fixation had begun a year ago when Bill had given him a little Hungarian Horntail figurine like a smaller version of the one Harry pulled from the pouch during the Triwizard Tournament. 

Harry felt a faint smile tugging at his lips as he followed Teddy into the garden. 

See you on Tuesday, Malfoy.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey Harry" Anthony Goldstein greeted bright and early on Monday morning when Harry walked into their shared office. 

"Hey Tony" Harry responded, hanging his jacket up on the coat stand in the corner of their little room, grabbing his Auror robes off the hook and shrugging into them. 

"There's a coffee on your desk. And a case file. You may go after those in whichever order you prefer" Tony said without looking up from his copy. 

"Cheers. What've we got?"

"First on the list: A Miss Angela Hart of Diagon Alley doesn't like the look of her new neighbour. Says he's been spying on her as she gets dressed in the morning."

"Ooo a voyeur! Haven't had one of those in a while. Thanks for this by the way" he tipped the paper cup in his partners direction to indicate what he was thankful for before removing the plastic lid and taking a healthy sip. 

"No problem - self preservation mostly. You're an utter bear without your morning caffeine" Tony grinned. Harry chucked the plastic lid in his direction, it hit the edge of his partner's desk only to fall listlessly to the floor. 

Tony laughed openly and goaded Harry with a "what the fuck Potter, you muggle" before spelling the lid back into the air and firing it back where it came from. Harry ducked just in time, aimed a gentle stinging hex and took immense pleasure in Anthony's ungainly jump and rather delicate yelp. 

"You utter prick, watch what I do to you. Wingardium Leviosa" Harry's coffee cup lifted into the air. 

"You wouldn't" Harry pleaded. In the next instant hot coffee was pouring itself onto his lap, soaking through his robe and jeans and underwear feeling slightly warmer than would be considered strictly comfortable. Harry got up from behind his desk and stood to the side of it, looking down at his robes in despair. 

"Motherfucker" Harry muttered and then, under his breath, "oppugno". He watched as the pile of papers on his desk lifted up and settled in a V formation midair like a flock of birds. He saw genuine fear in Tony's eyes before a wall of paperwork flew towards him. 

When the giant mess settled like a snowstorm all around him, Harry saw that Tony already had his wand poised. Harry hastily attempted to cast a shield charm around himself when their office door burst open and Head Auror Patel walked in. The occupants froze in their respective positions, which on this occasion meant the head of department, decorated Auror in her own right, Auror Roshni Patel, had just walked in on two of her brightest hires pointing their wands at each other in an office that looked like a whirlwind had wreaked through it. 

Harry saw her look first at Anthony still sitting at his desk but now with both his wand and eyes lowered, then at Harry and then, horrifyingly, at Harry's coffee covered crotch. 

"it's coffee" Harry spoke quickly. "Auror Patel..."

"Clean up. Then come to my office. Both of you." She shook her head disgustedly and walked straight back out. 

Once the door firmly closed behind her, Harry and Anthony stared daggers at each other, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter interspersed with swearing and name calling. 

Harry had tears running down his face and a split in his side and still he'd rethink to Patel's expression when she saw what must've seemed like a grown man who'd peed himself. 

"Fuck me, that was funny" Harry said, still chuckling 

"No thank you, you're not quite what I go for." Tony responded cheekily. 

"Har har. Very mature." And then a mumbled "tit."

"No you're right. If it wasn't for the incontinence, you'd definitely be my type" Tony said, staring pointedly at Harry's coffee stain before bursting into laughter all over again which Harry happily joined because who doesn't love a joke about bodily functions?

"Ok. Stop. Stop" Harry pleaded. "We need to go see her. She didn't look happy."

"You're right. But first fix this fucking mess you've made of my desk. You idiot, you realise that's all your own paperwork you've fucked up?" 

"Yes. Obviously". He hadn't. Fuck. He spelled the sheets into a messy pile and levitated them onto his desk. He had a dull afternoon ahead of him it seemed. 

"Right let's go" he charged towards the door

"Err Harry?" Anthony ventured, walking behind him out of the office into the mini atrium. 

"What? She's gonna get antsy and then we're gonna be stuck on desk duty for fuck knows how long."

"Yes, but Harry" Anthony said, in an overloud voice. Several heads turned towards them, "don't you want to spell away your urine stain first?"

Fuck. Buggering shit. Harry felt, he FELT at least 15 pairs of eyes turn toward him and his coffee stained robes. Then he heard the gasps and then everyone heard the giggles and the fucking murmuring. Harry spelled his robes clean, and started walking quickly towards the Head Auror's Office. The laughter and whispers followed his progress and he could feel Anthony's glee as if it was burning a hole through the back of his head. 

He turned around darkly, and shouted "IT WAS COFFEE" before knocking on Patel's door, hoping she opened it quickly. 

"Now now Harry, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's fairly common, although admittedly not at your age"

"Shut. Up" Harry warned. Tony laughed. Motherfucker. He was dead to Harry. It was over. 

The door opened and Harry all but apparated inside so fast was he. 

"Morning ma'am" Anthony said equably. Such a young man, in the prime of his life. So sad that he was going to die at Harry's hand. 

"Morning Goldstein. Potter. Have a seat please, I have a proposition for you."

Harry and Tony sat down, unsure what to expect. Luckily they didn't have to wait long, 

"I'll cut right to the chase. Our US counterparts would like to pilot an exchange programme. Our respective Ministers in their infinite wisdom have decided there's much we can learn from each other. Most departments have handed over names for who they'd like to send over there - obviously it has to be someone good, we do have a reputation to uphold, you realise? We've come out of a war not a very long time ago, and I feel like this department is still rebuilding itself. I want to send someone who understands what this is about and who we are. As far as I'm concerned, it has to be one of you. It's entirely up to you which one of you goes - but unfortunately I've left it rather late so do need an answer by the end of the week, if that's okay?"

Harry and Tony sat in shock. What on earth was this? 

"How long would this be for, ma'am?" Harry asked just as Anthony said "when would this programme begin?" And wasn't that telling; Harry wanting to know when it would end and his partner wanting to know when it started. 

"6 months, Potter. And I believe it's meant to kick off in the new year. If one of you decided to take me up on this, I'd assign a third partner to you so that there's a relatively stable working relationship when one of you leaves. Any more questions?"

The answer to that was yes. But for some reason Harry was shaking his head no. One look over to Anthony and he was doing the same thing. 

"Very well then. Back to work." Patel got up from her desk and Harry and Tony followed. They walked out of the office and back to theirs in complete silence. The silence continued as they settled at their individual desks.

A minute passed and then there was a cough from Anthony. "On the count of three then. One. Two. Three." Half a breath and then Harry said "I don't want to go" the same time as Anthony said "I want to go"

"Fuck." Anthony said. "Fuck, really?? You don't want it?"

"No" Harry smiled. He didn't. Or he did, but he also didn't. And he knew that if they both put their names forward, he'd get sent. And so did Tony. So this really was for the best. 

"Fuck. I want to. It sounds perfect - I love it here. I REALLY love it here but a change would just be so nice right now." Harry knew what he meant. They'd been partners a long time and he knew Anthony had some personal shit going on. He didn't know the ins and outs but he knew enough to know that he was really miserable for a while and, while he was much better now, in a new place with new people he might be even better. 

"You'll do great, Goldstein. And I could do without seeing your ugly mug for a few months"

Anthony laughed. "Thank you. Thank you so much"

"Thank MACUSA and their incompetency when you get there. Fucking need people from 4000 miles away to sort their shit out. Now - are you gonna start crying tears of joy or shall we get going on work?" Harry indicated vaguely at their in-tray which was steadily piling up with new cases; some disappearing as they got picked up by other teams but the pile still steadily growing. 

"Yes. Sorry, let's go see Ms Hart and her creepy admirer"

\-----

 

It was 1pm and Harry and Tony were just leaving the house of Mrs Higgins whose kneazle, Randall, had once again come home with a precious item that did not belong to him. Harry was fairly sure Randall had swallowed a niffler as a kitten or something - never before had he come across a kneazle this fond of shiny things that didn't belong to it. Harry had been through this whole process countless times throughout his 4 years on the Auror force. It was a case of taking the stolen item and cross-checking it against the records from lost and found/burglaries etc. until there was a match. Then showing up at some disconsolate person's house with their lost belonging and telling them a domestic animal stole it from them. 

Since it was lunch time, and he was already on Diagon, he figured he'd spend his lunch hour with Ron and George at the shop. Tony offered to write up the report on Mrs Higgins (which essentially involved fishing out the last report on Mrs Higgins and changing a few words - the date, the stolen item, etc.). He was feeling kind because he thought he owed Harry for the MACUSA gig even though Harry actually didn't want it that much. Angelina was going to pop out his niece or nephew any day now and Harry wanted to be here for that. Then there was Teddy; he was growing up so fast and Harry didn't want to miss 6 months of it. There was too much to stick around for so as far as Harry was concerned, Goldstein was welcome to it. 

Harry walked into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and was reminded, like he always was, of those evenings in the Gryffindor Common Room; Fred and George demonstrating their latest innovation, regaling a rapt audience with the value of well timed consumption of a puking pastille. It was an afternoon on a work day/during term time so you'd expect the store to be relatively quiet but such was the magic of this place - it was always alive. There were shelves upon shelves of all manner of joke items, some that he recognised and some new stuff that must've been part of the new product line. There was Giggling Gillyweed, Snot Shots (Harry shuddered at the thought of what those did), Self-stinking quills (this one he knew. Goldstein had given him one when he'd run out while writing a report. The Auror office had to be vacated). 

"Harry mate, what are you doin here? On a school night no less!" George called from high above. Harry looked up to see he was busy stocking a top shelf. 

"Hey George. Thought I'd stop by for lunch. You free?"

"It's my shop. I'm always free. Oi, Jonny!" A lanky young boy, fresh out of Hogwarts it looked like, jogged over to right below where George was standing. 

"Take over. I'm gonna pop out for lunch"

"Yes boss" Jonny said. 

"You think Ron's free?" Harry asked 

"Go find out - he's in the Back Room"

Harry wandered past the tills into the Back Room. Where all the magic happened. Technically the Back Room was a series of rooms where they formulated their ideas, created them, tested them etc. Harry didn't particularly like being back here, just because of the number of times he'd walked out with his hair turned pink or worse. 

"Ron? You back here? George and I were gonna go get a bite to eat, if you wanna join?"

"Harry? Yeah I'm over here."

Harry followed Ron's voice to the Experimentation Room. He was sitting behind a work bench

"What you working on?"

Ron looked up and was about to say something before changing his mind. "Oh fuck it" he said "I'm working on my proposal"

"What proposal?" Harry asked. Ron looked at him with a baleful expression that did the answering for him.  
"OH. Oh. Shit, really? When? Oh my god Ron that's huge!" Harry slapped him on the shoulder in what he hoped was an encouraging way. 

"I was thinking after Australia you know, if the meeting with her parents goes alright."

Another thing Harry didn't want to be in the US for. The list was just getting longer and longer. 

"You two want me to bring food here and we can listen to Ronniekins talk about his feelings some more?" 

"Fuck you" Ron said. Harry laughed. 

"Let's go - I have approximately 40 minutes left of my lunch break." 

 

\---

Later that day, when Harry returned to the office he discovered that Goldstein, the eager motherfucker had given his answer to Patel already. Harry didn't mind per se but it did mean that they'd be lumbered with a third partner that much sooner. And since he struggled to find people he could work with, Harry was a little annoyed at this. It's not that Harry was a bad partner or a difficult colleague; it was more that Harry's reputation unfortunately always preceded him so he was often either landed with some simpering idiot who worshipped the ground Harry walked on (not ideal) or he was landed with someone who thought Harry's history meant he got everything handed to him on a silver platter (what utter shite). 

Harry had had a glorious first year, partnered with Neville. There was no baggage that wasn't shared, including girlfriends eventually. Neville and Harry both knew they could have easily been living each other's lives and that did wonders for removing any airs between them. Not to mention the fact that they'd been mates and fought a war together. Nev was a war hero in his own right and he definitely wasn't a simpering idiot. Once the bugger fucked off to Hogwarts though, Harry's Auror career took a nosedive. He went through 4 partners in the space of a year - they either loved him or hated him too much and neither makes for Constant Vigilance. Harry often had to think for two out on field missions, he tended to stick to silence in the office and with one bastard he had to ward his shit before leaving and cast covert revealing charms on all food and beverage consumed at his desk. Then 2 years ago, after Claire Brown confessed undying love to him and therefore created a giant conflict of interest, Patel's predecessor, Robards, partnered him with Goldstein. Harry knew him from school, he'd been a member of DA. He was smart, confident in his own ability and Robards' impartiality, and sufficiently aware of Harry's schooldays and the war to know he wasn't a spoilt twat. It was truly a match made in heaven and Harry was happy that Anthony was going to be exploring new horizons in the States but that didn't mean he was happy he'd have to go through the whole fucking mess again with finding a partner. 

Harry was sitting grumpily at his desk mulling over this entire situation when a memo flew straight into his face. 

He covered his nose, those things had very pointy faces, and unfolded it. It was a request from Auror Patel to come see him. Shit. Was it happening already? 

"What is it?" Tony asked from across the room 

"Patel wants to see me. What the fuck is this? Just this morning she drops this bombshell, tells us to take the week to think about it. You go and answer her the same bloody day and now she's already got an alternative partner for me?? The Ministry hasn't seen this kind of efficiency in its entire life I'm sure and yet today..."

"Is that what she wants to talk about?"

"I assume so? Doesn't say. But what else could it be?" Harry muttered. 

"Look, mate - it's not just gonna be you is it? It's gonna be both of us with this newbie. And it's probably better we get him or her sooner rather than later, right? So we can indoctrinate them into the Potter-Goldstein way of crime fighting!"

"Yeah true. Our unique way of handling dotty old ladies and thieving pets has kept the streets of London safe for many years." Harry joked. 

Anthony laughed, though more in relief it sounded like to Harry. He figured maybe he'd made his partner feel guilty and he didn't want that. 

"You're right though. Probably best to do this as early as possible. That way we can run through the first few while you're still here" Anthony looked contrite at that "I'm joking! Come on, it's fine" Harry wasn't joking. He got up to answer his summons, 

With a cheery, "If I'm not back in half an hour - send out a search party" Harry sauntered off towards Patel's office. 

He walked through the mini-atrium that made up the admin and break out areas of the Auror office. There were offices all around the atrium, like the spokes of a wheel. The lifts opened out into a sort of mini reception desk (Auror office didn't get many visitors) directly in front, the Auror floos directly to the left and the coffee and breakout area directly to the right. Patel's office stood behind the reception desk at the far end and was flanked on both sides by Senior Auror offices - bigger, better furnished versions of Harry's. Harry walked over and knocked twice before opening the door. 

"Harry, hello"

"Auror Patel - you called for me?" 

"Yes. Goldstein came to me earlier. He said he'd like to be considered for the exchange. He told me you didn't want it, and I've not known him to be a liar but I would prefer to hear it from you"

"He wasn't lying, ma'am. I'd prefer to stay, if that's alright"

"Of course, of course. Very well. Do you have a preference for a new partner? Ideally we'd want to keep existing partnerships but, given the trouble you've had in the past, if there's someone you'd rather work with and they're already assigned a team, I can speak to them and.."

"No!" Harry exclaimed in horror. Patel stopped talking and looked at him in alarm. That had been rather vehement. Oops. But Harry physically cringed at the thought that Patel would just say to a happily settled member of the Auror force "I know you're happy where you are but Harry Potter wants you and what Harry Potter wants, Harry Potter gets." 

"I mean" Harry quickly corrected himself, "that won't be necessary ma'am. Whatever process is the norm in these cases is fine by me"

"I'm glad you say that, actually. Because there have been a few applications over the years from the Auror support teams to be transferred to the Corps. I've long thought there would be value in giving some of them a go of it, but we tend to operate at capacity most of the time. I feel if you're amenable to this, we could look to interview a few of those candidates and run them through a few drills?"

Harry honestly couldn't have cared less if he tried. He'd danced this dance enough to know he'd be falling on his face a few times at least. But if there was this big fucking process, it meant he got some time before things went tits up. That at least gave him some relief. 

"That sounds fine, ma'am, thank you"

"Very well then Potter. I'll have Dora compile a list of applicants and you can have a look at it either today or tomorrow." She turned to the papers on her desk and Harry assumed he'd been dismissed. 

He walked back out, feeling a bit better. His office was empty - he hoped Tony had gone for a tea and that he'd bring Harry one as well. Harry took his spot at his desk and his eyes fell on the monstrous pile of papers he'd sent flying towards Tony that morning. He needed to sort those. Fuck. Harry's good mood vanished in an instant. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and got down to work. It was going to be a long afternoon. 

\-----

Harry was on his way out when he saw him. Harry had chosen to walk home, so he went out using the phonebooth. He'd been walking up Whitehall when he saw Malfoy walking towards him, but on the other side of the road. He hadn't spotted Harry and Harry just stayed still, watching his progress. Malfoy walked up to the telephone booth and leaned against it, checking his watch repeatedly. Harry was in the process of putting the strap of his bag over his shoulder when he'd spotted Malfoy and he realised he was still in that position. He threw the strap over his head to settle on his opposite shoulder, keeping his eye on Malfoy the whole time. 

A few minutes passed like that, until a second figure emerged from the phonebooth. It was, of all people, Pansy Parkinson. Harry had seen her on his floor a few times so he did know she worked at the Ministry but he'd never come across her or spoken to her. In all honesty, Harry realised in that moment, he probably didn't even register who she was, that's how far from his mind Parkinson was. He saw them hug like old friends and realised they must be. They clearly didn't lose touch and were still very close. Maybe they were dating? Malfoy had gone to the Yule Ball with her in 4th year, Harry remembered. The thought of Malfoy and Parkinson being an item didn't sit well with Harry at all - Harry wasn't sure what that was about - "yes you do" his brain happily supplied. Highly overrated organs, brains. He could just ask Malfoy. Yeah right, Malfoy wouldn't tell him shit. He could fish out Parkinson at the Ministry. And say what exactly? "Sorry - I know we haven't spoken in 5 years but could you confirm or deny that you're dating Draco Malfoy?" Yes. That would work. 

Harry was very surprised to discover that during his internal monologue his feet had walked him towards where Malfoy and Pansy were walking, arms linked, heads bent towards each other, talking quietly. How did that happen? 

And imagine his even bigger surprise when his mouth opened and entirely against his free will shouted out Malfoy's name. 

Malfoy and Parkinson, now about 10 paces ahead of Harry, turned around at the sound. It was getting dark so their expressions were hard to gauge but the way both bodies went completely stiff was impossible to miss. Harry regretted his decision almost instantly. He jogged over to them and injected false cheer into his voice as he said "fancy bumping into you here!"

Malfoy, from closer up, looked distinctly uncomfortable. 

"You didn't bump into us Potter. You followed us"

"Pfsh! Semantics" Harry dismissed. "Hey Parkinson..err..Pansy. Long time no see"

Harry was completely and utterly horrified at every word that was exiting his mouth. What in the name of Merlin and Morgana was he saying?! 

Apparently this was a shared view. Pansy's eyes looked like they'd bug out of her head if they got any bigger, she'd never looked more like a pug than in that moment. 

"I...I..Draco" she turned to Malfoy, "I just realised... I... err... I have something. To do I mean. I'm going to go. I'll see you later" and she literally ran away from the two of them. 

"Pansy!" Draco called. But she was long gone. He turned to Harry "why are you doing this?" He looked utterly miserable. But before Harry could say anything, Draco had taken off behind Parkinson. 

Harry stood there, stock still, wondering what the hell just happened. Sure, he'd said some cheesy shit and he'd been insincere as fuck, but Christ that was the mother of all over-reactions. Suddenly walking home seemed unnecessary hassle. Harry found a quiet side street and apparated home. 

\-----


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally coincidental/utterly planned tea party at the Tonks'

At approximately 6pm on Tuesday evening, Harry knocked on Andromeda's door. He had quickly gone home and changed into a nice jumper and a pair of chinos instead of the t shirt and jeans he usually sported. He didn't dwell too much on why his clothing mattered. He'd even tried combing down his hair but that was futile unless he had Sleekeazy's on him, which he didn't. 

Andromeda opened the door and showed faint surprise at seeing Harry there. 

"Oh, Harry. I wasn't expecting you?"

"Yeah - sorry. Thought I'd drop by. Is it a bad time?"

"Um..." Andromeda looked inside for a second and seemed to be thinking on her feet. Harry hadn't considered the possibility he might be sent away. He didn't think Andromeda would - but then he'd never called on her and Teddy unannounced before either. 

"Oh goodness - no of course it's not a bad time. Come on in" Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "I do have guests over, Harry" Andy said in a half whisper. "You probably have history with them but please behave, okay?" Harry didn't have to feign surprise at that seeing as he didn't realise there would be 'guests'. He fervently hoped it wasn't Parkinson again. Andy would definitely regard one of her guests running off like her arse had caught fire upon sight of him as 'misbehaviour'. 

Harry walked ahead of Andy as she closed the door and warded it again, and stopped at the half open door to her homely living room. He hadn't been noticed by the occupants but he had clear sight of them. Teddy and Malfoy were sitting on the carpet playing with the dragon toys Teddy had told Harry about at the Burrow. They had their heads together and Malfoy was explaining something as the Swedish Short-Snout circled round his palm. The other guest also became clear as Harry's eyes went to the woman standing by the window, looking out into the back garden, a cup of tea in her hand. Harry hadn't seen Narcissa Malfoy since he spoke at her hearing 5 years ago, but he could recognise her anywhere. He wished he hadn't come. 

Andy came up behind him and pushed the door further open, the creaking alerting the room's occupants. 

Malfoy and Narcissa looked at him with surprise and then identically schooled expressionless faces. Teddy jumped onto his feet in delight and ran full force into Harry, who held him close just as a means to ground himself. 

"I'm sure no introductions are necessary" Andy said awkwardly from behind Harry, alerting him to the fact that he hadn't walked into the room yet. Harrry hurriedly moved inside, holding Teddy's hand. He realised he had a child in his armoury and they always made situations less strained. 

"Teddy, who're your friends?"

Teddy, oblivious to the tension in the room, walked Harry over to Narcissa and spoke slowly and carefully  
"This is my Great Aunt Nar...Nars..."

Mrs Malfoy smiled and offered a gentle "Narcissa" which Teddy carefully repeated. "Aunty, this is my Uncle Harry"

"Good evening, Mrs Malfoy"

"Good evening, Mr Potter"

"Harry, please"

"Very well" she said, still expressionless although there was fond affection directed at Teddy for a moment. 

Teddy yanked on Harry's arm to get his attention. He walked over to where Malfoy was now standing and said, "Uncle Harry this is my cousin Draco. Cousin Draco this is my Uncle Harry"

"Hello" Malfoy said stiffly 

"Hi" Harry responded. 

"Potter - can I speak with you for one second? In private?"

Malfoy walked out of the living room, into the hall way - Harry extricated himself from Teddy and followed behind. 

They were just outside the door when Malfoy whispered angrily, "what is your problem Potter? Why are you following me? My Death Eater days are a thing of the past - there is no nefarious plot to unearth so can you please just let me live my life?"

Harry started at the vehemence. Obviously he had been following Malfoy in a way but that was hardly relevant, 

"Excuse you, Malfoy. That is my godson and his grandmother in there. They are my family and if I'm spending time with them, it's not because I'm hoping their estranged family members will randomly make an appearance."

"So it's coincidence is it? You're here when we're here?"

"I'm here nearly every week, you plonker. So if you plan on dropping by more often you'll probably bump into me a lot more than this. Christ. But if you prefer I'll cross check with you next time. Jesus Malfoy why do you have to be such a prickly bastard all the time?!"

Malfoy was staring daggers at Harry, although the fire had died in his eyes somewhat,

"I think Mum and I should probably just come another day"

"No!" Harry said quickly, before Malfoy could open the door, "this isn't about us; your mum and Andromeda are sisters and if they're trying to rekindle a relationship, then that's bigger than our weird school rivalry. We can get through an evening of civility Malfoy come on - we're adults for God's sake." 

Malfoy looked unsure - then he gave a quick nod which Harry took to mean agreement and they went back into the living room. 

"Everything alright?" Andy asked - she looked very suspicious and with due cause, to be fair to her. 

"It is now, I think Andy" Harry replied. 

He also didn't miss the look Mrs Malfoy gave her son, and his imperceptible nod back. 

Harry looked at Teddy staring from him to Malfoy, unsure of how to bring things back to how they were so Harry figured he'd help the process along. 

"What were you guys playing?"

That was all Teddy needed as he promptly fell back onto the carpet, grabbed both Harry's and Malfoy's hands and pulled them down. Harry went easily and eventually Malfoy sat down too. Teddy picked up the Swedish Short-snout. It's silver scales gleaming in the light.  
"This is a Swedish Short-Snout" Teddy looked at Malfoy for confirmation. He gave a small smile and nodded. 

"Oh wow. He's a cool looking dragon, where does he live?"

"Sweden!" Teddy announced and looked extremely proud of himself. 

"Yeah!" Harry said enthusiastically, sharing a look with Malfoy that he hoped conveyed cautious friendliness. 

"And what about this one?" Harry grabbed the Hungarian Horntail from the floor and placed it in Teddy's open palm. The dragon slapped its tail against Teddy's hand, the bronze spikes causing Teddy to giggle and mumble "tickles" while Harry gave a full-body shudder at the memory of what those spikes were like in real life. 

"Harry" Andy called from the kitchen. He hadn't realised she'd moved and yet now he looked to see the three of them were alone in the living room. 

"See you in a sec, Ted" Harry said, before heading out. 

He walked into the kitchen where Mrs Malfoy and Andy were talking in hushed tones, Andy scooping ice cream into bowls. "Oh! You needn't have come to the kitchen Harry, I just wanted to ask if you wanted tea or coffee. I'm just bringing some ice cream out"

"I'll make it. Would you like another cup Andy?"

"No, thank you dear" Andy responded 

Harry hesitated before "Mrs Malfoy?"

Mrs Malfoy looked up "no, thank you Harry. And please, call me Narcissa"

Harry went to pour water into the electric kettle and allowed it to heat. Harry got an inordinate amount of pleasure doing things the Muggle way just because it had become almost novel. He couldn't at Grimmauld because... well, there were no plug sockets or electrical mains. Ron and Hermione had a little bit but the true connoisseurs of Muggle technology were the Tonks. Or rather, Andy and Teddy. Andy's husband, Ted, was Muggleborn and she'd embraced his history and culture as wholeheartedly as he had embraced hers. Harry also got the chance when he visited Dudley, who, though infinitely less horrid now, was still edgy around magic. Harry noticed that his entry into the kitchen had resulted in silence from the two women. 

"Andy, Mrs..err... Narcissa" Harry said when the silence got too unbearable. "I'm so sorry for intruding, I really didn't know you'd be here or I never would have come" that was true. 

"That's alright Harry" Mrs Mal.. no, Narcissa said and she seemed to mean it. "I've been trying to make a concerted effort to reacquaint myself with my sister" she put her hand over Andromeda'a and gave it a squeeze. "You are a very important part of her life, and young Teddy's and so it was inevitable that we meet."

Andy smiled and looked over at Harry, "never feel guilty for coming to see us, Harry. You know we love to have you here"

Harry smiled. This wasn't so bad. He poured the hot water into a cup and soaked the tea bag. Andy and Narcissa levitated the bowls of ice cream and took them into the living room, Harry behind them with his steeping cuppa. 

He heard Teddy's "Ice cream!" from the hallway. 

In the living room Harry took the sofa in the corner, a bowl floating over to the side table next to him. He placed his cuppa down and picked it up to take a bite. Harry grimaced when he discovered it was strawberry and peanut butter. For whatever reason, Teddy had taken a particular shine to that peculiar taste and as the youngest and most adorable attendee of this tea party, he obviously got to pick. 

Harry looked up to see Malfoy smirking at him. His grimace evidently hadn't gone unnoticed. Harry grinned back. 

"Uncle Harry?" Teddy asked 

"Yes, Ted?"

"Cousin Draco says you fighted a Hungarian Horntail at Hogwarts?"

"Oh really?"

"Yes. He said you were very fast"

Harry looked up at Malfoy whose cheeks were looking slightly pinker than before. 

"Well Teddy, I didn't fight her, mostly I tried not to get killed by her. I was supposed to steal an egg from her nest."

"Why'd you wanna do that?"

"I didn't." Harry said wryly and Malfoy let out a sharp laugh at that. 

Teddy looked confused. 

"Ted - I was in a competition. And one of the tasks was to steal an egg from a dragon. Your Aunty Fleur stole it from a Common Welsh Green. Do you have one of those?" 

Teddy looked through his collection and picked up a green dragon and looked to Draco hopefully. Draco smiled. "Close, that's a Romanian Longhorn". He picked up another green dragon and placed it in Teddy's palm. "This is a Welsh Green". The dragon did a little twirl as if it knew it was being looked at. 

Teddy peered closely at his palm. "Did you win the competition Uncle Harry?" And just like that the happy feeling settling low in Harry's belly vanished. 

"Umm...not quite Ted. I'll tell you bout it someday. Finish your ice cream, it's melting"

Teddy looked like he was about to argue and Harry hoped to all the gods that he wouldn't. 

"Teddy, look at this one" Malfoy said - picking up the Ukrainian Ironbelly. "Did you know, this is the err... largest dragon known to wizarding kind. Weighing in at approximately 6 tonnes, it's absolutely ludicrous to imagine what it would look like in reality soaring above the clouds in the mountains of Romania. I've heard stories of course, of sightings and I've seen photos from dragon reserves but such a magnificent creature can only be appreciated in its natural habitat...." Malfoy's voiced trailed off towards the end, when he saw the effect he was having on his audience. 

While Harry was absolutely enchanted by Malfoy's excited muttering about Ironbellies, he now realised Teddy looked utterly lost. Harry wanted to laugh; Malfoy's speed of speech and choice of vocabulary had gone entirely beyond the reach of a 5 year old and Teddy was too polite and a little bit too proud to admit that he wasn't understanding. 

"Sorry" Malfoy whispered, placing the dragon back on the floor. "I'm not around children much..."

"That's okay, Cuz'n Draco" Teddy said kindly, "seeing as you really like this one, maybe you can borrow it?" Harry felt inordinately proud of this little kid. He had so much of his parents in him, for all that he had never met them, not really. Malfoy took the dragon cautiously, looking unsure how to proceed. He turned the toy around in his hand a few times and then looked at Harry for guidance. Harry gave a little nod. Teddy's feelings would be hurt if he didn't accept. 

"Thank you" Malfoy said. 

"It's okay. But you have to come back b'coz you have to return it."

Malfoy gave one of those precious toothy smiles that Harry had seen twice and was quickly becoming fixated on. 

"Yes sir" Malfoy said. He picked up another dragon and started explaining characteristics to Teddy, although he was making a concerted effort to keep his vocabulary understandable and his enthusiasm curbed. Harry figured Teddy might have had to "lend" all his toys to Malfoy if he hadn't. 

The happy feeling in Harry's belly was back. He returned to his disgusting ice cream which he had, despite his words of caution to Teddy, allowed to melt, and his tea which he had allowed to cool. Harry's eyes traveled to the other side of the room, where Andy and Narcissa were talking. They'd go from chattery to silent, cautiously optimistic to tense, between every breath almost. Made sense; Andy had been shunned for going against the pure blood bullshit agenda which, for all Harry knew, the Malfoys still followed. If reconciliation was something Andy wanted, then Harry was happy for her, and Harry was a true believer in forgiveness, although he had yet to forgive more than his cousin, his own childhood. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had never seemed that bothered to make Harry family and this was certainly no loss to him. 

Harry looked back to his true family who, at that very moment, was licking around the edges of his bowl. He snuck his own bowl down and held it next to Teddy, waiting for him to notice, which was really altogether too short a time to be called a wait. Teddy grabbed it off him with practised ease and handed his own empty one in its place. This was a seasoned move by the two of them whenever dubious ice cream flavours were involved - which was always. 

Malfoy, still working on his own bowl, taking small, neat bites looked up to observe the exchange and his expression was one of part-amusement, part-annoyance. 

"Potter" he whispered, "I'm the guest - if there was a way out of consuming this wretched thing, I ought to have been made aware"

Harry laughed, "Sorry - Malfoy. Not how it works. There is another way - you can offer to clean up in which case you're the only one who sees your uneaten ice cream"

Obviously vanishing the contents was also an option but that one didn't get Malfoy in the kitchen on his own. 

At Malfoy's slightly concerned expression, which Harry reckoned he had correctly identified as apprehension, Harry had to bite down on a grin threatening to break loose. He definitely knew fuck-all on the subject of cleaning up. 

"Don't worry" Harry cheerily supplied, "I'll help"

Malfoy's eyes went wide and his cheeks stained pink. Harry reckoned maybe his eyes were grey but had flecks of blue. Shut up, Harry. 

Malfoy's grey-blue eyes showed whatever war was raging inside him, before he steadied with resolve. He looked down at Teddy who was hoovering up the last of Harry's ice cream. 

"Can I have that bowl please, Teddy? If you're finished?"

Teddy looked like he had a few licks left in him but that was hardly the thing to say to polite company so he balefully handed it over. Malfoy placed it on top of his own, and then added Harry's (previously Teddy's) bowl to the stack and got up. He spelled the dirty bowls to follow him as he went to his aunt and mum to get theirs. Harry took great amusement in the way Narcissa looked utterly bewildered at seeing her son offer to do the dishes. Two more bowls joined the fray before Malfoy disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. 

"Hey Ted? Do you wanna bring down a storybook and we can read it before I head out?"

"Yeah!" Teddy said enthusiastically. He got up and bounded up the stairs. Harry took this opportunity to also head into the kitchen, where Malfoy was stood near the sink, the bowls inside, looking around as if to find a how-to guide. 

To be fair, Harry reckoned there probably were how-to guides for this very predicament. There was probably a whole shelf of them at Flourish and Blotts; 100 Household Chores for the Spoilt and Pampered Wizard, Dish-washing for Beginners, Evelyna Bardle's Book of Easy Spells for a Happy House. He sniggered at his own wit. 

"You alright there, Malfoy?"

"Jump off a cliff, Potter" Malfoy mumbled. 

"Such a temper! Careful or I might decide not to help"

That shut him up. Harry felt giddy with power. He pulled out his wand and demonstrated a dish washing spell on one bowl and then, once it was washed, a drying spell. Malfoy watched him carefully and then repeated the motion methodically. His bowl looked wobbly for a second but before long he was working away looking, for all the world, like he'd been a house elf in a past life. 

When all four bowls and Harry's teacup had been washed, and were busy being dried, Harry spoke, 

"Malfoy - how come you've been my Healer all 5 times I've needed a Healer?"

There was silence and Harry could see from Malfoy's profile that he had his fist clenched, and his jaw held rigid. 

Eventually - with forced calm, "I am a Healer, and you were a patient..."

"You're not the only Healer though" did Malfoy think Harry didn't have a rebuttal ready to that stale line of argument?

"Coincident?" Malfoy said lightly. Too lightly, Harry thought. The calculating git. 

"Pull the other one, Malfoy. You've been engineering it so that whenever I'm at St Mungo's, you end up healing me. I don't know what reason you could possibly have for that; it's weird as fuck. But I know you're doing it."

Malfoy laughed derisively, "such an ego, Potter. Everything doesn't quite need to revolve around you, oh Saviour of Wizarding Kind." Harry could feel himself getting wound up and it really wouldn't do to start hurling curses at Malfoy, right here in Andy's kitchen. 

"Anyway," Malfoy continued, "delightful though this undoubtedly was, I think I ought to go back inside"

"Yes - you're right. It's late. We should discuss this in more depth over lunch some time" Smooth. 

"Potter!" Malfoy said exasperatedly. "You don't give up, do you? My answer was no, is no and will forever be no." With that he turned around and started walking towards the door. 

"Malfoy" Harry called out - he had decided to throw a different line of questioning into the mix, to throw him off. Malfoy didn't turn around but he did stop in his tracks. 

"Why did Parkinson run away when she saw me?"

It looked for a second like Malfoy would continue ignoring him and start walking again. But for some reason, he decided to throw Harry a bone. He turned around, looked Harry dead on and spoke in a half whisper 

"She tried to sell out the wizarding world's hero to its greatest villain and everyone knows about it. Figure it out Potter - I know you're not as dense as you pretend to be." This time he did walk out and Harry was left standing there, surprise in every pore of his body. That was some messed up shit right there. 

Harry didn't know how long he stayed in that spot but eventually Teddy wandered in, a brand new copy of The Tales of Beadle the Bard clutched in his little hands. 

"Uncle Harry?" He said hesitantly, "will we read soon?"

That jolted Harry out of whatever memory his brain was indulging in from the War and the Final Battle; he nodded and walked out of the kitchen, in to the hallway and through to the living room where Malfoy and Narcissa were standing by the fireplace with Andy, saying their goodbyes. 

"Goodbye Harry," Narcissa said when she saw him come in and then to Teddy, "and you Mr Lupin. I hope you'll come visit us sometime as well - we'll stock up on all your favourite sweets" Teddy hid behind Harry's trouser leg in a sudden bout of shyness at the invitation. 

"Bye Narcissa, it was err... nice to see you. Teddy - say goodbye" Harry prodded,

"Gbye" Teddy mumbled into Harry's chinos. Narcissa smiled before walking into the fireplace, calling out "Malfoy Manor" and then disappearing through the floo network. 

"Bye Teddy... Potter" came Malfoy's voice next, and he didn't wait for a response before he too followed his mum out. Malfoy Manor - Harry hadn't realised they lived there. Well, he realised it belonged to them, so where else would they go, but it was just such a terrible place; especially once Voldemort set up shop there. Why would anyone want to? And to think Malfoy thought him living at Grimmauld was weird. 

In all honesty, Harry's determination to solve this mystery was dying, as he took a seat with Beadle on one thigh and Teddy on the other. But then again, not really. Maybe he just needed a break from it all. He decided to let Malfoy go for a bit. Focus on more productive things. Such as literally anything else. 

 

\----

[1 Week Later]

A memo settled on the side of Harry's desk, while he was writing up a report on a stolen artefact from the British Museum. He was 10 pages into intense paperwork - it was a public case, involved wards being broken through, Muggle police and Muggle news coverage - basically the mother of all shit storms was ensuing because a vase had been stolen. Harry loved the investigative side but he could do without the reams and reams of forms that needed filling out. Every department had its own rules and unfortunately this case involved 5 different offices; the Auror office, Muggle Liaison, Obliviation, Muggle Worthy Excuses and the Department of Mysteries (who knew why, but those buggers were involved in everything) 

The memo started bouncing up and down on his desk and making a buzzing sound - an urgent one then. Harry ignored it until Tony shouted "just fucking read it, will you?"  
He put his quill down and went for the memo, and unfolded it. 

HP, 

Why have I not heard back from you RE new partner. Revert with shortlist by 5. 

RP

Harry groaned, his eye going over to the pile of applications teetering on the edge of his desk - where he'd pushed them to when they'd arrived nearly a week ago. He cast a quick tempus. 3pm. Fuck. 2 hours to go through what looked like at least 50 applications and come up with a short list. 

"Tony - I've got to do this new partner bullshit for Patel. You wanna take over the reports please?

"Yeah sure - send them over"

Harry levitated the wad of paperwork from his to Tony's desk. And dragged the pile of applications from their home on the periphery to the recently vacated slot front and centre. This was going to be highly unpleasant, he just knew it. Harry grabbed the first application off the pile,

Sally Adams, Statistical Analyst, DMLE. That seemed alright. Harry had no clue what that meant but it was probably good. Harry didn't bother reading the rest of the application before writing down Sally Adams on his short list. Next. Amir Ahmed; law underwriter, Wizengamot Support Services. Fuck that sounded okay too. Harry wrote down Amir Ahmed under Sally Adams. Next three were Regina Alvarez, Shruti Aran and Barney Asher. And they all seemed fine too. Harry was running 5 out of 5 on his short list and he hadn't even got through the As yet. This wasn't going well at all. Maybe he shouldn't be doing the short listing at all. He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment, wrote down as neatly as he could 

Ma'am,

I feel unqualified to short list. Could I please 

And then he decided maybe this was a face to face conversation. Harry got up, threw a quick "be back in a sec" towards his partner who barely looked up in acknowledgement and headed towards Roshi Patel's office. He knocked and waited a few seconds until the door opened and then walked inside, clicking the door shut behind him. 

"How can I help you, Potter?" Auror Patel went straight in without even looking up from whatever she was reading at her desk, her glasses perched low on her nose. 

"Ma'am, I was looking through the.. um.. the applications and.."

"Oh good, have you a list for me?" Here goes... 

"Not quite. I started but I thought they all looked good so maybe I'm not best suited to compile a short list."

"Excellent - glad you got there quickly. Absolutely right Potter, you'll have no idea what to look for - but people like to be a part of decisions that pertain to them so the whole have-a-look-see-what-you-think song and dance had to be done. Now, here" she pulled open a drawer, and grabbed a piece of parchment, "is a list of names we've short-listed. We've organised Auror entrance exams for Monday, and we'll interview Tuesday to Friday and should have a successful candidate in 2 weeks hopefully." She held the paper out for Harry to look at - although he had no idea what that would achieve. He moved forward to take it off her and held it in his hand 

"Now, it's entirely your call whether you want to be present for the interview process - I would recommend that you be there seeing as you two will be working closely with one another."

"Yes ma'am, I'd like to be there for the interviews, if that's alright."

"Perfect. Will there be anything else?"

Harry shook his head no. He felt a bit overwhelmed and walked out of the office a little worse than he went in. Once Harry was back at his desk, he realised he still had the short list clutched in his hand. He spread it out on the table, ran his hand over it to clear out the creases and had a cursory look at the names. 

And there, three from the bottom, a name that Harry recognised. 

Pansy Parkinson. 

\---- 

Harry arrived in the Ministry cafeteria 5 minutes early. He wasn't sure if she'd show, but in case she did - he wanted to be there before her. When 15 minutes passed and there was no sign of Parkinson, Harry decided that maybe she wasn't coming. Disheartened, he got in line for lunch, and then, just for the hell of it, he bought two of everything; two chicken sandwiches, two garden salads and two Ministry brownies. As he turned to find a place to sit, he saw her walk through the cafeteria doors. 

"Parkinson" Harry called, to get her attention

She looked up and Harry could smell the fear rolling off of her. He'd made a pretty public call for her attention so at least he knew she wouldn't run although, she looked like she'd give her right arm for the chance to escape. 

Harry found a table and pulled out the chair opposite him and waited for Parkinson to join him. She made slow progress but eventually she settled on the edge of the chair - ready to make a run for it, Harry suspected. 

"Hope you don't mind" Harry pointed at the spread, "figured it would be safe since the chicken sandwich is pretty much the only edible thing this place does"

If he'd hoped for a smile, he'd go home disappointed. Parkinson continued to look like she was at a funeral. Harry pushed one sandwich, salad and brownie down the table towards his rather unwilling guest, unwrapped his own sandwich and took a bite. He waited pointedly until she grabbed at her salad and uncovered it, stabbing a fork into a limp salad leaf and viciously sticking it in her mouth. 

Harry grinned. Progress. 

"Why did you call me here, Potter?" She spoke after swallowing. 

Right. He knew what he wanted to say, he just wanted to make sure it came out the way he intended. Harry tended to struggle with that. Here went nothing, 

"I wanted to talk to you. To tell you I forgive you"

Parkinson's eyes bugged out of her face - again, making the resemblance to a pug uncanny. Before long they narrowed and stared daggers at Harry. 

"For what?" She asked, venomously. 

"I don't know, Parkinson. Whatever you need me to forgive you for. I don't hold what happened before the Battle personally, okay? You did what you had to do. It's fine"

Parkinson's eyes were welling up. Fuck. He knew he'd cock this up. Christ, what a fucking mess. 

"I tried to sell you out to the Dark Lord, Potter. You can't absolve me of that. No one can"

"Yes I can. I tried to sell me out to him too. And use his fucking name - Voldemort. Or Tom. Pansy, you hated me and you hated my friends. Some dickhead told you that your friends would die - Malfoy, Zabini, Nott, unless you handed over a bloke you hated. It's a fucking no-brainer isn't it?"

"I was horrible to you.. and to Weasley and Granger"

"Yeah you were. Right arseholes to be honest, the lot of you. But the thing is, that's a part of school isn't it? Some kids are dicks and some aren't. We weren't supposed to be fighting a war alongside being children, but that's what happened. You landed on the wrong side - so many did. But you know what? There were so many actual bad people that I knew during those years and during the years that followed. I mean, Umbridge was a Ministry employee and she was a fucking evil little cow wasn't she?? So I know the difference between evil people and evil circumstances. And you aren't evil."

Tears were falling unchecked down Parkinson's face and Harry really didn't know what to do. 

"Park.. Pansy.." he said gently, "do you still hate me?"

Parkinson shook her head no, "you saved us Potter. He was a fucking mad man and he would have ruined us all."

"I don't hate you either. Don't get me wrong, I don't know you, so maybe I will hate you when or if I ever do, but right now - you're like a stranger."

Harry held out his hand, "hi, I'm Harry." He cringed a bit at how ridiculously cheesy that was but now that his hand was outstretched he couldn't take it back. He sat there for 10 seconds, watching Pansy's bewildered eyes go from his face to his hand repeatedly. Until eventually, a hand held his and she whispered "Pansy." Harry let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. 

"Good. Now eat your disgusting chicken sandwich."

Pansy smiled a small smile, wiped her eyes and nose and started unwrapping her sandwich. They ate mostly in silence but not an uncomfortable kind. Harry had one question left unanswered but he had to approach it with subtlety. 

Just as they were picking up the plastic from their lunch's debris - Harry said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone, 

"Didn't realise you and Malfoy were still dating"

Pansy let out an ungainly snort. 

"Draco? Yeah, the day hell freezes over maybe. He's as gay as they come" and then her hand whipped up to her mouth. Right, Pansy was a loudmouth. Now he knew. Harry wanted to smile but he kept his face straight. 

"I won't tell"

"Thanks" Pansy mumbled. "I should go."

"Yeah" Harry said "same. It's as they say, an Auror's paperwork is never done."

They walked together to the door to the cafeteria, and just as they were about to part ways, Pansy stopped him with a hand on his arm,

"Potter... um.. thank you"

"Harry" Harry corrected cheerfully, smiled and patted the hand on his arm before walking back to his office. 

\----

When Harry got home that day, a horn owl was tapping his window incessantly. Harry didn't recognise it and it was clearly running on a tight schedule because as soon as Harry untied the letter from its leg, it flew right back out the window again. 

Harry unrolled the parchment. 

"Potter,

One lunch. 

DM"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok maybe more than 2 then *monkey covering eyes emoji*

Harry had chosen a Muggle restaurant for his lunch with Malfoy - for a similar reason to why he always dined in Muggle restaurants when he was out with Hermione and Ron. Except there was an added layer of the field day wizarding tabloids would have if they saw an ex-Death Eater and Harry Potter being friendly to eachother. 

Harry had chosen a cosy table next to the window - looking out onto Tower Bridge. The restaurant wasn't busy but it wasn't empty either. There was a good deal of privacy at the moment as it was going on 2pm and the lunch crowd was thinning out. Harry looked at his watch, 1:55pm. He'd told Malfoy 2pm and had shown up 10 minutes early himself. He kept an eye out the window, as he had clear sight of the walk up to the doors and the doors themselves. He felt nervous and he wasn't sure why. His interactions with Malfoy thus far hadn't been what you'd call friendly but there was a fragile truce in place. But there was a significant amount of bad blood between them so if anything could tear that to pieces, it was an afternoon spent in each other's company without the benefit of broken bones or small children to provide distraction. 

Just then, Harry saw Malfoy walk up to the door to the restaurant. Malfoy looked into the glass door and fixed his hair and pulled down his button down, running his palms over his thighs to clear out the imaginary creases in his trousers. He walked in and spoke to the hostess, and they both turned towards Harry. Harry and Malfoy made eye contact and Harry thought it was wise to give a jaunty wave. Malfoy slowly approached the table and Harry stood up as well - unsure why. 

"Hey" Harry said with too much false cheer. What the fuck was the matter with him?

"Hello" Malfoy said equably. 

"Did you get here okay?"

"Evidently."

They both sat down and started fidgeting with their cutlery and their placemats and the menus. Somehow maintaining eye contact had become utterly impossible. They couldn't get through an entire lunch time like this, Harry thought. One of them had to start talking and seeing as Harry was known for his act first, think later attitude to life, he felt it had to be him. 

"Look, Potter..." Malfoy spoke at exactly the same time as Harry said "Why did you.."

They both stopped talking. There was silence again. 

Harry spoke first this time, "sorry. You first."

Malfoy looked unsure but spoke anyway, "I wanted to say - I honestly have no answer for you regarding your particular obsession with why you've been my patient so many times. I could concoct a story if you prefer but really, there's no need to hound me. We don't get to choose who we treat." 

Harry took that load of bullshit in for a second. Then answered "Okay"

"Okay?" Malfoy said, startled, "just like that? Okay?"

"Yeah" Harry said. "Okay. Why did you decide to become a Healer?"

Malfoy looked utterly confused and Harry found that utterly adorable. Wait, no he didn't. Except that he did. What a fucking mess this was turning out to be. Before Malfoy could answer, the waitress appeared asking for their drink orders. Harry ordered a Budweiser and Malfoy ordered an Aperol Spritz. Poncy git. 

When she'd left again, Malfoy appeared to choose to pretend he hadn't heard Harry's question, and started perusing he menu. Harry wanted spagbol, so he didn't need to peruse the menu. He always wanted spagbol. When Malfoy was done with that, he looked up to see Harry staring at him inquisitively (Harry hoped). 

"Why do you care, Potter?"

"I'm just making conversation Malfoy. We're having lunch together, we might as well talk. I just... I don't know anything about what you got up to since the War except, obviously, that you're a Healer. So I figured I'd start there" 

"Why'd you become an Auror, Potter? I would've thought you'd seen enough fighting."

"I asked you first." Harry said accusingly. 

Malfoy shrugged, "I don't fancy sharing. You wanted this lunch so you can answer first, I think"

"Fine." Harry said, his bones rattling with the urge to fight Malfoy. Why was their animosity so hard to break through? "I wanted to help clean up after the war was over. The Head Bastard was dead but his disciples were wandering free. Some of them anyway."

Malfoy listened attentively, nodding when Harry was done answering. His eyes were cold as chips of ice though, and Harry wasn't sure what he said to warrant that. He felt like he'd started off on the back foot and that this lunch was doomed for failure. 

"Like my father, you mean?" Malfoy said. Fuck. 

Harry considered not responding. He hated Lucius Malfoy with a burning passion and yes, the answer to Malfoy's question was "yes, exactly right - just like your spineless fucking wanker of a father Malfoy." But that wouldn't go down well he suspected. 

"Malfoy..." Harry began. Diplomacy was not something he was known for so these next few words were almost certainly going to make matters worse. Luckily, the waitress arrived with their drinks and then asked for their food orders. Malfoy fancied mushroom cannelloni, which he ordered very stiltedly. Harry reckoned the mention of his dad, for all that he'd brought him up, probably shook him up more than anything else. 

When she left, there was once again silence. They both took sips of their drinks for want of something to do. Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. 

"Don't fret your little head, Potter. I'm quite aware of what my father did." Malfoy said, instead. 

"Malfoy - if you expect me to regret putting Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, then I guess I was wrong to think we could put our past behind us. He put your and your mum's life in danger for fucks sake. That's messed up, Malfoy. Surely even you can see..."

"Stop!" Malfoy exclaimed, genuine anguish in his eyes and voice. "You think I don't know what he did? You may think you have me figured out, Potter but you didn't live through my 7th year. He may have been a shit but he was good to me and I knew I was loved. He was my father, but of course you wouldn't understand what that means!" Malfoy's hand instantly flew to his mouth as if trying to hold the words in but it was too late.

Harry felt the blood drain from his face and then rush back. There was anger and hurt boiling low in his gut. 

"Potter, I..." Malfoy started to speak

"No, you're right." Harry said, his voice deliberately calm. He was taking deep breaths. "I don't know what it means to have a father. But that doesn't mean I don't understand the value of family. Fuck you. This was clearly a bad idea" Harry took his wallet out of his back pocket, intending to pay for the meal they hadn't had a chance to eat and make a hasty retreat. 

Malfoy grabbed his wrist as he was putting the notes on the table. Harry looked up and saw regret written all over Malfoy's face. 

"I...uh.. When I returned for 7th year, I had a meeting with Headmistress McGonagall regarding career prospects. She told me which programmes were willing to consider individuals such as myself - with, err, unsavoury affiliations during the War. Some support functions at the Ministry and amazingly St Mungo's as well. It seemed a good way to make amends for what my family and I did. I know I can't make up for the damage, but something's better than nothing, right?"

Harry took the confession for what it was - an apology. He was still angry but Malfoy's words had cooled him down somewhat. He looked down at Malfoy's hand still holding his wrist hostage. Malfoy hastily let go and Harry got up. 

"Don't go, Potter."

"You didn't want this to begin with. Why not just let me end it now?" Harry asked. He was curious. Malfoy was getting what he wanted - for Harry to leave him alone. 

"I don't know. I just. I don't want it to end this way. Just sit back down, will you?"

Harry sat back down. He didn't know what he expected from all this but it was clearly not what he'd ended up with. 

The waitress, oblivious to the tension, came with their mains and placed them on the table. It was probably for the best because it gave them something to do. Both delved into the food with a vengeance. 

"Do you like being an Auror?" Malfoy surprised Harry by asking.

Harry took a second to think about his answer, "yeah. I guess I do. In the beginning it was a whole lot of raids and stuff; didn't matter that I was junior. Now it's more paperwork and minor crimes. But I like that too. It means there's been progress right?"

"It definitely suits you" Malfoy said. "You were always a social justice warrior at school - defending Longbottom and Weasley and Hagrid"

"Not really, Malfoy. It was more that you were an utter shit to them. I was just being a decent bloke" Harry hadn't meant it as a barb necessarily and it didn't look like Malfoy was too offended.

"Come off it, Potter. Hagrid fucking thought it was okay to introduce 14 year olds to creatures he knew nothing about and whose tails used to randomly blow up. Not to mention that Hippogriff that nearly killed me. Or that fucking beast of a dog."

"Ok firstly - Fang's never hurt a fly. You were an arrogant little shit in front of Buckbeak and got your just desserts. And I have no absolution for the blast-ended skrewts." Harry shuddered at the memory of them. Maybe Hippogriffs were a bit dangerous too, but Malfoy had been a twat. 

"I was probably a bit of an arse to Weasley and Longbottom but they always made it so easy. Longbottom couldn't help but get everything wrong. He was just a walking punchline."

Harry couldn't necessarily argue with that. 

"He actually teaches Herbology at Hogwarts now."

"I know" Malfoy said and that surprised Harry. Malfoy obviously saw the surprise because he added, "I err... I go there sometimes. To Hogwarts."

Harry wanted to know why but asking was a sure fire way to never find out. So he took a bite of his food and waited for Malfoy to continue. 

"There's a... portrait. Of Severus. In the Headmistress's office. I go to see him sometimes."

Harry sometimes went for tea with Minerva while she convinced him to join as a DADA professor. Speaking to Dumbledore's portrait during those few moments always soothed him so Harry understood the appeal. Snape, for all that he was Harry's undercover fairy godfather, was Malfoy's confidante. Maybe friend? Losing him would've been his greatest loss from the War. 

"I know it's late, but I'm sorry about Snape, Malfoy. He and I never got on, but he was my greatest ally for all of my life."

"Yes. I didn't know until.. after." There was silence again, which the two filled with sounds of cutlery and chewing. The afternoon was maybe showing signs of improvement. 

"Are you in touch with many people from Hogwarts?" Harry asked. 

Malfoy carefully chewed and swallowed - his Adam's apple moving. He wiped the corner of his mouth and took a sip of his drink, before answering. Harry's fixation on Malfoy's face was getting a touch out of hand, he thought. 

"Some. Pansy, Theo and Blaise mostly. Greg moved to France after the...after. We exchange owls every so often and sometimes I'll visit. Lovegood as well"

Again, Harry was surprised. "Luna? You're in touch with Luna? She's never said..."

"She's a bit barmy though, isn't she? She's knee deep in talk about nargles and blibbering humdingers or what not most of the time. It probably didn't even occur to her to mention me" Malfoy said defensively. 

Harry laughed. And Malfoy's defensive pout turned into a small smile. 

"Didn't mean to doubt. Just, she's never mentioned. How'd you guys get close?"

Malfoy's smile disappeared. Another landmine evidently. Their interactions were littered with them. 

"She was in the Manor dungeons" Malfoy spoke after a few seconds of silence. 

"Oh." Was all Harry could say to that. He knew that, of course - he just hadn't realised that was a dynamic conducive to friendship.

"We talked sometimes. Then after, at Hogwarts, she just acted like she'd been my guest or something. Even offered me a job at the Quibbler. Obviously I didn't take it, but we just kept in touch I guess?"

"That sounds like Luna" Harry said, fondly. Trust her to remember a stint in the Malfoy dungeons as an extended sleepover. 

There was fondness in Malfoy's eyes and his smile. Harry wanted him to look like that when he talked about him. He was just about to deny it, but his brain told him to shut the fuck up and stop running from his feelings, before he could. 

"Do you miss it? School, I mean?" Malfoy asked. It was an innocuous question - but Harry knew that it was mostly the hidden caveat - did he miss Hogwarts even though he'd been fighting for most of it? 

"Yeah" Harry said - without hesitation. "I was happiest at Hogwarts. It was home, pretty much. I mean, I grew up with Muggle relatives and they were a little bit...um..unsure about magic, so Hogwarts was my first chance to be me, I think". There was unwarranted candidness in his answer and Harry hoped he hadn't weirded Malfoy out with it, but it didn't seem that way. 

"That makes sense" was all he said. 

The conversation was getting heavy and while Harry didn't mind that, this kind of subject matter was where all the landmines lived. 

"Favourite and least favourite teachers. Go" Harry said. 

Malfoy looked surprised, but then he smiled. He took a second too long; "can't think about it, Malfoy!" 

"Snape. Trelawney. You?"

"Lupin. Trelawney although I'll be honest - If Snape hadn't been constantly saving my life in secret, he was a shoe in for least favourite."

Malfoy laughed. And started listing all the times Snape had embarrassed Harry in class. It was shocking how well he remembered Snape's cusses verbatim! Harry would've been offended, but he found he didn't want to, particularly. He was kind of enjoying it. 

They exchanged stories from school - keeping them tame and absent mentions of war and Harry could honestly say he was having a really nice time. 

After the waitress came to take their dishes away, Harry looked at his watch and noticed with alarm that it was already 2:45. He'd be due back at work in 10 minutes. He called for the cheque and took his wallet back out. Malfoy did the same and Harry was surprised with the pound notes he saw peeking out. He took out a 20 with confidence and placed it on the centre of the table. Harry himself took out his debit card. 

"How'd you get so good at being a Muggle, Malfoy?"

A slight blush bloomed on Malfoy's cheeks. Harry suspected this was Landmine Number 8,564. 

"I took Muggle Studies". 

"Taught you to enjoy fruity wine coolers, did they?" Harry said, referencing the drink Malfoy had ordered. Malfoy's cheeks went slightly darker. His skin was so pale, it was almost too easy to make it colour. Harry was starting to feel bad. The waitress brought their cheque and went right back in search of a card machine when she caught a glimpse of Harry's card. 

"You don't have to answer" Harry offered, very magnanimously, he thought. "It's just so different to the Muggle hating Malfoy of old - it surprised me, is all"

"I'm not. I don't." Malfoy cleared his throat, "I don't hate Muggles. Anymore, that is. I spent a fair bit of time in Muggle London after. It felt...anonymous."

Harry understood that sentiment perfectly - although he probably experienced recognition from a different perspective to Malfoy. Venturing through Muggle London on his own, Malfoy must've been shit scared. Harry felt a little bit of respect for Malfoy after this revelation. 

The waitress returned. Harry handed his card over and noticed Malfoy lean forward to get a look in at what was happening. The waitress handed Harry the machine to punch in his PIN, which he promptly did and handed it back to her. Malfoy followed all of this keenly, right down to the moment in which she tore the customer receipt and handed it to Harry. She turned to Malfoy who handed over the £20 note, which she took and wandered off to get his change. 

Harry held his card out for Malfoy to see, who grabbed it and stared - his eyes wandering over it. 

"It's like when you sign over access to your vault after you buy something - basically this just debits your Muggle vault with the amount charged."

Malfoy turned it over, looking with such intense concentration, Harry wouldn't be surprised if he got a call from the bank telling him his card had been abused overnight. When it had been maybe a touch too long, Malfoy handed it back politely. The waitress returned with his change, from which he took all but two pounds and then got up, Harry following his lead. 

They walked out from the restaurant and down towards London Bridge - an area that offered a multitude of quiet side streets to apparate from. They walked in silence and when it came time to go their separate ways, Harry turned to Malfoy but before he could say something, Malfoy spoke. 

"Take care, Potter." And with a crack he was gone. Harry would've preferred a nicer goodbye than that but his nerves probably couldn't handle much more anyway. Harry shrugged in the empty street and spun on his heel, arriving in his preferred back-alley by Whitehall. 

\-----

 

"Aaaand this," Tony said "is where you'll be sitting. It's a bit cramped but I'm sure we'll all get used to it. Harry and I will attempt to declutter before you join, obviously, won't we Harry?"

Harry smiled. "Yep. Definitely. Decluttering is definitely on the agenda."

Parkinson looked like she was trying very hard not to curl her lip in disgust and that really pleased Harry, for some reason. She'd been decidedly personalityless so far but Harry had a sneaking suspicion she was trying to tread lightly in his presence. Tony was showing a considerable amount of false cheer showing her around so he'd evidently noticed her blandness too. Harry remembered Pansy to be a truly horrid girl at school, but she wasn't dull. Her results on the Auror exams also attested to the fact that she wasn't daft. Hence, it was entirely reasonable that a seconds worth of disgust at his messiness was a promising sign. 

"Let me introduce you to some of the other Aurors." Tony said, and they both headed out the office, leaving Harry to his thoughts. Might as well get working on some of that paperwork backlog, Harry thought. He'd been so wound up in the lead up to his lunch with Malfoy, he hadn't been at his most productive this morning. Harry pulled an unfilled report form, spelled open his own report diary and started filling it in. He could hear Anthony's over loud voice outside, introducing his new partner to the squad. His new partner. Harry would be partners with Pansy Bloody Parkinson. For at least six months. Christ. She wouldn't be a simperer but she might well try to poison him - jury was still out, despite their very productive conversation over lunch two weeks ago. If that hadn't happened, she wouldn't have landed the job - she'd probably have sprinted out of the interview room as soon as she saw him sitting there. 

Parkinson, or indeed any of the candidates, hadn't been told who they'd end up working with, if successful. You'd have thought seeing Harry in the interview would have been a red flag, but Harry's fame meant he could rock up one day to judge Wizards do Strictly Come Dancing, despite having two left feet and people wouldn't bat an eye. Of course, Harry Potter probably has tap shoes for feet, they'd say. There'd probably be a rumour that he defeated Voldemort by challenging him to a vicious two step or something. He still didn't think she knew why she'd been hired into their team. It wasn't his job to tell her, so he'd kept quiet. Maybe Patel planned on telling her before she officially started next month. 

Right. Back to work. Harry pulled the incident report closer to himself, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and began writing. 

\----

"Ohhhhhhmyyyyyygoddddd"

Harry's ears were ringing from the noise coming from the delivery room. He was staring at his feet and he suspected all the blokes were doing the same thing. Harry had never been involved with the birth of a child before - no siblings and (hopefully) none of his own to use as a barometer. He'd got a call from George about an hour after he'd got home, saying Angelina had gone into labour and he'd decided to just apparate over to St Mungo's. Apparently it took more than a few minutes to pop a baby out - who knew? They'd been here for 4 hours and Angelina had only just started screaming so he reckoned there was a good chance the baby was going to arrive soon. George and Molly were in the delivery room with Cho, or Healer Chang, he supposed would be more appropriate. Harry was in the waiting area outside with Arthur, Bill and Charlie. Fleur had just left as it was past Vic's bed time. Harry looked up to see that Charlie's ears were bright red. He was probably in the same boat as Harry - at least Bill had Victoire's birth as relevant experience. 

"Blimey! Never been happier I only have one working ear" came George's voice from inside, followed by a thunk and a shouted, "Mum!". Harry snorted a laugh, as did Charlie and Bill. Arthur shushed them but one look at him showed a man struggling to hold his smile in. Cho's voice wasn't traveling through the walls but the soothing tones were easy to gauge. Angelina's screams were reaching a formidable pitch - Harry was feeling truly worried now. 

"Can't they give her a pain potion or something?" Harry whispered. 

"Not good for the baby" Bill answered back "she's probably on a safe mild variant but I don't think it does much. Ange sounds like she's coping relatively well though"

Harry's eyes bugged "relatively well?? That's relatively well? She sounds like she's being gutted"

"Fleur threatened to cut my balls off with a nail file, when she was in labour." Harry winced. 

"I remember when Molly was..." 

"No!" Harry, Bill and Charlie exclaimed simultaneously. No one wanted to think of Molly Weasley giving birth. 

Just then, there was a sound from the end of the hallway and Harry looked up to see Ginny and Neville jogging towards them. 

"Tell me I didn't miss it!" Ginny gasped out as soon as she reached them. Just then Angelina let out another gut wrenching scream. Ginny's head whipped to the side - her eyes going wide.

"You didn't miss it" Harry offered helpfully. 

And then a miracle happened. They heard the sound of a baby's first cry. Everyone went rigid in their seats, Ginny, who was still standing up, started bouncing on the balls of her feet. They all stared at the door like it held all the answers until a second later, Molly stepped out, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

"A boy. A grandson!" She said before disappearing back inside. Everyone jumped up and Harry didn't know what happened but all they could do was clutch each other. Arthur hugged Charlie, Ginny grabbed Harry, Bill approaching from the side and enveloping them in a bear hug. Neville stood awkwardly to the corner, until Charlie yanked him into a three-person-embrace, with a weepy "get in here, Neville". 

They held each other for a minute and when they parted, they all looked emotionally wrecked. Harry wasn't sure what was happening to him - it was only a baby. 

Molly came out a long 5 minutes later, opening the door wide, beckoning them inside. The room was small so they had to take turns and Harry stayed back, waiting until last to go in. 

He walked in to see Angelina looking exhausted but happy in bed, holding a bundled up, pink-faced little baby. His face was wrinkled and his eyes were shut. He was so tiny. George was standing between the back wall and the bed, his hand on her shoulder. 

"Congratulations George. Angelina" Harry offered, he felt like he was on the brink of tears. He walked up to the bed and looked down at the wrinkly little baby. There was barely anything of him but the longer Harry looked, the bigger his heart swelled to. 

"Thanks Harry" Angelina said. "Hey Fred, will you open your eyes to say hi to your Uncle Harry?" She cooed. Harry's eyes shot up to George's. He smiled. "Fred" was all he said. Quietly. Harry felt fresh tears welling up in his eyes, he caressed little Fred's cheek and vowed in his heart to protect him better than he protected his namesake. 

Angelina wouldn't be able to leave the hospital until at least tomorrow morning so they took turns to keep her company until she fell asleep. When she'd fallen asleep, the baby in a bassinet next to her bed, George sitting between them; everyone retired to the Burrow. Fred had conveniently been born on a Friday night and so Harry had no qualms about his impromptu sleepover plans. He sent a quick owl to Kreacher to let him know. It was going on midnight, so, crowded around the Burrow living room, the group decided to firecall Hermione and Ron. It would be mid morning there. No sooner had they decided this, that Hermione's face appeared in the fireplace. She looked really haggard and upon seeing them she shouted over her shoulder, 

"Ron they're here! Hurry!" And then turned back towards them and said, accusingly, "where have you been?! We've been calling for hours! We were so worried. We tried you, Neville and Ginny, Harry! We were so worried!" 

"Hey Mione" Harry said from the back of the group. He didn't think she had seen him instantly. 

"Oh Harry!" She said, relief dripping from every word, "thank God you're fine! Your floo was closed and you weren't picking up - we were so worried"

"I'm fine! Sorry about that - it's just I rushed out as soon as I got home because..."

"Ginny! Neville!" Hermione exclaimed. Her eyes wandering over everyone in turn, "we've tried your floo about 100 times - where were you?"

"Hermione dear" Molly tried, but before she could get anywhere with anything, Ron appeared in the fireplace looking equally haggard and a little bit angry. 

"What the hell? Where the hell have you lot been? Honestly - we must've tried to floo each of you about a thousand times in the last 2 hours. What could be so important that none of you could be arsed to let us know whe..."

"ANGELINA WENT INTO LABOUR" shouted Charlie, suddenly. Ron went quiet. 

"Sorry" Charlie volunteered "its just you were just going on and on and really it's late, Ron. We're tired."

"Angelina went into labour?" Ron whispered. 

"Oh Ronnie" Molly spoke, "a boy. A little boy. Little Fred" and just like that, the emotional wreckage that they'd only just got over, came rushing back. Harry felt his throat closing up. 

Ron looked like he might cry. Hermione wasn't much different. Her lower lip was trembling and her eyes were shining, "oh. Congratulations! Molly, that's great news". Ron, next to her, was in no state to talk so she just put her arms around him and he burrowed his head into her shoulder. 

"Stop it, Ron" Ginny pleaded - "we've only just stopped crying over here". That wrenched a wet laugh from everyone. Hermione raised her left hand to wipe at her eyes and it was then that Harry saw a tell-tale glint. 

His heart did a double take, "Mione" he said. She looked at him, "you...your hand..." she looked down and blushed, a huge smile splitting her face. 

"Oh it's not our moment Harry! But you've gone and let the cat out of the bag. Ron proposed!"

There was a collective whoop and Ron burrowed deeper into her shoulder. It was hard to tell through a firecall but Harry was certain he had gone beetroot. 

"Oh my dears! Congratulations! What a good day this is turning out to be!"

Everyone took Molly's cue and offered their heartfelt congratulations. They stayed talking for a long time after that, until only Harry was left, talking to Ron and Hermione at 2am in the morning. He had promised that he'd stay up as long as possible to wait for Percy's return owl. He'd gone to the US as part of a Ministry contingent and they hadn't been able to get a hold of him. 

"How's Malfoy?" Ron asked when the conversation was hitting a bit of a lull. 

"Yeah - okay. I saw him at Andy's and we went for lunch the other day. He's really changed you know - trying to be better. He's interesting and clever and witty and when I don't want to strangle him, I kind of want to spend more time with the bastard." Harry told them about his lunch with Malfoy and how different he'd seemed. 

"Harry" Hermione said cautiously, "do you fancy Malfoy?"

Harry wasn't surprised at the question but this would be the first time he voiced what he'd now accepted as the bizarre truth of his life. 

"Yeah. I think I might"

Ron groaned. A reaction that made Hermione laugh. Harry wondered how she felt about it, given how much of an utter shit he'd been to her. 

"He's not the same person he was, I get that. And if you want to, I don't know, date him" Ron groaned again, "then we're okay with that. We don't like him yet - but we trust your judgement. Right Ron?" Hermione elbowed Ron (or so it seemed from the sound he made)

"Yeah sure. But he's such a ferretty little git though" Ron whined. Harry laughed. He really missed his best mates and he couldn't wait to see them again. 

After they'd said their goodbyes - Ron and Hermione had lunch plans and Harry had a date with a bed, he pondered over what he'd confessed to. He didn't even know if Malfoy thought of him like that, and even if he did, there was a definite chance they'd end up killing each other if they attempted dating. But Harry also couldn't quash the part of him that wanted to keep seeing him. 

Harry went into the kitchen and penned a quick note; sending it off with the Weasley's owl before he could think about what he was doing. 

"DM  
Taking Teddy to the zoo tomorrow. Would like if you came.  
2pm, Regent's Park station. 

HP"

Harry was convinced he'd lost his mind, but he just couldn't bring himself to give a shit. 

\----


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When will this fic end? Who knows....
> 
> Apols for delay!

Harry saw Malfoy a few times over the next couple of weeks- not always engineered by him. Not that he was complaining of course. Harry had a patchy history with fate but if they'd been on better terms, he would have thanked it for throwing him and Malfoy together so often. When Harry had sent an owl to Malfoy at approximately 2:30am on a Friday (or a Saturday morning maybe?), he hadn't expected a response. He'd got one anyway, along the lines of 

"Who sends a fucking owl at 2 in the morning, Potter? In answer to your invitation - I have a night shift tonight so unlikely I'll be awake. 

DM"

Harry assumed this was a polite no. Or an almost-polite no. It wasn't great but still infinitely better than the 'fuck you's of old. Still - it had been a day filled with good news so it would take more than that to stem Harry's positive energy. He went to bed a happy, if ever so slightly disappointed, man. 

\----

The next day, Harry and Teddy had been just about to go through the entrance to the Zoo when he'd seen a shock of white blond hair, jogging towards them, from a distance. Harry's heart had almost stopped and then done a somersault. And really - these reactions were very inconvenient. Teddy, who didn't have the benefit of height, had pulled on Harry's trouserleg to see why they'd stopped. Harry had just stood there - mute and staring until an explanation wasn't necessary. 

"Cuz'n Draco!" Teddy had said gleefully but Draco had looked anything but happy. 

"If you give someone a location, Potter, common decency would dictate you wait for them there."

Oh! 

"Sorry, Malfoy - I thought you'd said you weren't coming..."

"I said I MIGHT not come Potter - can you even read?"

It was mean but Harry was suddenly feeling very forgiving. He'd grinned at Malfoy who in turn just glared back, but there was a cheeky little half smile threatening to break free and Harry had known the anger was for show. Malfoy was looking forward to this. 

"Shall we?"

Teddy'd held on to Malfoy's left hand and Harry's right as they'd gone in. 

Malfoy had been about 20% more keen on everything relative to Teddy. His blatant fascination with Muggles was endearing and also faintly embarrassing but Harry had no intention of telling him this. Then there was his obsession with the snake enclosure - fucking Slytherin bastard. All in all Harry had a bloody good time and the way Malfoy's cheeks were flushed and eyes were bright as they were leaving, suggested to Harry he'd had a pretty decent time of it too. Teddy's eyes were drooping shut once they left the zoo resulting in Harry having to heft him up into his arms. He had won Teddy a giant teddy bear by throwing 3 consecutive hoops around the heads of plastic crocodiles in the gaming arcade, without the assistance of Magic, thank you very much. Given Teddy's inability to hold on to the thing once the fatigue had set in, Malfoy had had to hold on to the "bloody great big gay fucking bear" for him - a fact he wasn't altogether too pleased about. Harry would have liked to have held Malfoy's hand or something but jury was still out on how he'd react plus Harry was holding Teddy's dead weight, rendering his arms useless for much else and Malfoy had a full job holding the bear. 

Besides - as was quickly becoming Malfoy's MO - he'd apparated nearly instantly after a "take care, Potter" - bear in hand. 

\--

The next time Harry saw Malfoy was at St Mungo's approximately 1 week later. Ginny had had a nasty fall during a game against the Falmouth Falcons - there'd been a midair kerfuffle which ended up with an unseated Ginny free falling to the ground. A well placed cushioning charm protected her from any serious harm but she'd landed badly and was maybe concussed. What this meant was that Harry missed the rest of the game, and spent it by a grumpy Ginny's bedside, trying to keep her awake. Including reading out naff submissions to the Dear Aunty Anabella column in the Daily Prophet. Doreen had spelled her nipples fuchsia attempting to make them pinker before a date, for example. 

When Neville took over from Harry, he'd gone wandering outside - and by wandering, he meant 'went looking for Malfoy'. He'd had Kreacher prepare a banoffee pie which he'd quickly collected before approaching the ever-dour Edna at Reception. 

Edna, once she'd got a few slices in her beak... mouth, and once Harry had told her how Buckbeak had demanded respect and she reminded him of majesty and strength, had been a veritable fountain of knowledge when it came to St Mungo's and its employees. Harry learnt that Terry Boot would be proposing to Susan imminently - Harry hadn't even known they'd been dating. Mediwizard Andy had attempted to bribe Edna with chocolate eclairs, to get her to give up the goods on whenever Harry was in hospital - she wasn't that kind of woman, apparently. Or so she'd told him as she took another bite of banoffee. Healer Mitchel had been sleeping in the hospital all week because Mrs Mitchel had caught him in a compromising situation with a couple of gentlemen callers. Together. In their bed. 

But most importantly - Malfoy would be heading over to the canteen for a pick me up at 6pm "right creature of habit, that one" according to Edna. At 5:55, Harry thought he'd best make haste. 

"Malfoy!" Harry had said in feigned surprise when he wandered into the canteen at 6:02pm "fancy meeting you here"

Malfoy's head had whipped around from the till, tea in one hand, cake in the other. He'd looked surprised but not for long. 

"Potter." He'd acknowledged. "Not too surprising given this is my place of employment. What are you doing here?" His eyes had roved all over Harry, presumably in search of injury. Even a perfunctory professional gaze made Harry's collar feel a tad on the warm side and his fingers tingle. Christ, he had it bad. 

"Ginny had a fall. Just being a bedside buddy." And then, just to push his luck, "mind if I join?"

This had been more a test than anything else - Harry had already known from the ever useful Edna that Malfoy took his tea and cake upstairs to his office but Malfoy didn't know that Harry knew that and therein lay all the power. 

Malfoy hesitated for a second, maybe two and then gave a curt nod before heading over to one of the empty tables. 

They talked a lot. About Malfoy's day and Harry's, about Teddy. About Minerva and Hogwarts. They talked for what seemed like hours and it was empty of animosity. Mostly. Harry was feeling very pleased with himself and was especially enjoying listening to Malfoy speak and watching him demolish his nondescript tea cake. He was bloody good looking actually - high cheekbones, fair skin, piercing eyes. A long neck buttoned up in the near Victorian Healer robes. His hair either hadn't been gelled or had lost the gel finish after the long day he'd put in because it would perpetually fall into his eyes. He'd sweep it away impatiently with the back of a perfect hand; long fingers, nice square nails. 

"Potter?" Malfoy's voice broke through Harry's ogling. In his attempt to alleviate attention from the fact that he'd been staring, Harry had inadvertently made a giant inroad in their relationship. Simply by saying, 

"Harry."

"What?" Malfoy's voice cracked. 

"Reckon we should move to first names. Draco." That had felt weird but it would probably only get better with practice. Besides, if Harry was going to start thinking about Malfoy's-Draco's perfect hands, he might as well use the bastard's first name. 

"Right. Harry" 

That had legitimately sent a shiver straight through Harry. Yes, it would definitely improve with practice. 

"I need to get back". This was bad news, but the good news was that Malfo-Draco looked genuinely sorry to have said it. Ah well. 

\----

Harry saw Draco twice the week after that - once at Susan and Boot's surprise engagement party - turns out Hermione had known for ages and as ever Harry and Ron were just clueless. Boot had organised a party for right after the proposal itself; very bold move because what if she said no? Presumably he had it on good authority that she wouldn't but still sounded scary. Harry had accompanied Hermione because Ron was manning the shop solo while George was on paternity leave. Not that Harry minded. Susan and Boot worked at St. Mungo's and so did Harry's latest obsession so yes - Harry really didn't mind at all.

They arrived a little bit late to overloud Celestina Warbeck and a reasonable level of inebriation. Someone random appeared, placed bottles in their hands with a cheery "she said yes" before disappearing back into the fray. Well then - that was certainly good news. Harry's eyes scanned the crowd for a familiar face but were disappointed. Instantly Harry's mood fell and Hermione obviously noticed if her "you're pathetic" was anything to go by. 

They went in search of the happy couple to tell them how pleased they both were for them. Boot had been twirling Susan around in the centre of the throng, while mouthing the words to "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love". Susan's smile was so wide it was falling off the edges of her face a little bit, and her cheeks were flushed with probably happiness and a bit of alcohol. They made a really sweet picture and Harry wished he had a camera. He heard a click go off somewhere with satisfaction. Hopefully they had caught what he'd caught. Hermione and Harry approached the two in the centre and as Boot saw them, he settled Susan on her feet. They greeted each other like old friends who'd maybe lost touch but not affection. Harry gave Boot a, what he hoped was manly, hand shake and back clap "congratulations" as Hermione hugged Susan. Then they swapped places. They talked for a bit before someone else arrived to monopolise the couple. 

Harry and Hermione backed away and were just headed for one of the tables holding bar snacks when they were intercepted. By bloody Call-Me-Andy. Harry introduced Andy as Mediwizard Jenkins to keep it arms length but when Andy started walking with them, linking his arm with Harry's - the futility of that subtle reprimand became evident.

"Oh Harry - you were gone so soon that day - didn't even get a chance to see you again" Andy said cheerfully. "Wanted to see if you fancied meeting up sometime."

"Oh Andy that's really sweet - but err... I'm quite busy"

"Oh? But I didn't say when?"

"I'm very busy actually. You know how it is with us Aurors - work work work"

Andy looked unhappy. Hermione looked like she'd pass out if she held her laughter in any longer. Once they reached the buffet table, Harry extricated his arm from Andy's clutches, hoping this last rebuttal was sufficient. 

"Oh well - maybe I could bring you lunch or something?"

He hadn't let up.

"Oh! Well - that would normally be nice but I'm going to be away for a bit. Top secret mission - can't say where. Very dangerous"

"Well then we haven't a moment to lose - let's get out of here, right now. Spend some time together before you have to head out."

Hermione had snorted and Harry had just stared daggers at her. 

"I think" a voice had come from behind Harry "that Harry is trying to get rid of you, Jenkins."

Harry grinned wide. He knew that really he ought to be embarrassed, but he had essentially given up hope that Draco would be there so really he didn't have the energy to be both happy and embarrassed. He chose happy. 

Andy looked hurt and upset and frankly - ready to argue but Hermione, the darling, had beat him to the punch. She'd handed him a plate of hors d'oeuvres and gently ushered him to the side. That had left Harry and Draco alone by the table. 

"Thanks for that" Harry said. 

"That's alright" Draco grinned "I doubt you need such stresses before your top secret mission to top secret places"

Harry laughed "heard that did you? I didn't wanna be rude."

"Sometimes Potter-Harry, that's kinder than the alternative."

Malfoy had looked very good - he'd worn robes, but not for work. Harry didn't go for the wizardwear look - choosing jeans and a t-shirt most of the time or a suit for naff Ministry functions. He didn't much like robes but on Draco he reckoned he could get used to it. They were a dark blue - almost black and buttoned all the way up his throat - tiny almost invisible buttons. He looked rather austere actually, with his pale complexion - almost unattainable. Harry found he liked it a lot. So much so in fact that he'd even volunteered a cheeky, "you look nice". The robes looked even better when worn with a blush, Harry decided. 

They'd probably been chatting for a few minutes, nibbling snacks and drinking drinks but Hermione's return had resulted in silence. They'd all just stood there until Hermione spoke up. 

"Malfoy - if you and Harry are going to be..um...friends, I think maybe we're going to have to move past our differences as well. Clean slate?" She held her hand out and Harry felt proud and pleased - he'd even put an arm around her and kissed the top of her bushy head in gratefulness. Malfoy stared at the outstretched hand the same way Parkinson had stared at Harry's a few weeks before. Then he'd taken it, held on, and said 

"Very magnanimous Granger, to offer a clean slate - but I think I should apologise for the way I treated you and the... language I used. I'm abjectly sorry". He released her hand on that bombshell. 

Harry and Hermione just stared at him with their mouths open. Hermione recovered first, while Harry continued to struggle with the fact that Malfoy had just apologised. 

"Forgiveness is harder, I think. But we can try?"

"I would like that very much. Please"

The moment was strained but also hopeful. That is until Andy made his reappearance and things quickly went to shit. 

"Harry, I'm so sorry! I didn't realise that you were in a relationship." Harry had been confused. And then, to Harry's horror, Andy had turned to Malfoy and said "Healer Malfoy, sorry for hitting on your boyfriend." And after that utter bombshell he'd just run off. What the bloody fuck. Malfoy had obviously been thinking the same because he promptly begun choking on a pig-in-a-blanket. Hermione went behind to thump his back until the cough ceased. 

"I have to go. Bye Granger. Take care, Potter." Malfoy announced and just ran off into the crowd. Harry looked accusingly at Hermione, who told him she'd gone and told Andy that because he seemed to fancy his chances otherwise.  
"Besides" she added with a smirk, "it's not like you're not in a relationship - one sided as it is." It was amazing how quickly his goodwill had vanished - Hermione Granger was quite honestly dead to him. 

\----

Harry used a Ministry owl for personal mail the next day - dodgy, but needs must. He sent an apology explaining the situation to Malfoy although honestly, he had no real hopes of rekindling their fragile friendship. So imagine his surprise when he received a response near instantly (as instantly as mail traveling via flying bird is allowed to be) telling him it was all okay and not to worry about it. 

Harry had been suspicious to say the least, so he happened upon St Mungo's after work and found Malfoy in the canteen at 6pm as per. He apologised again, and was forgiven again. This time Malfoy had even invited Harry to sit with him during his tea break. They talked of nothing and everything for a good 20 minutes before he got up to go. Harry was disappointed but he had dinner with Ron and Hermione later, so knew he really couldn't have stayed. 

\---

They'd bumped into each other once more at Andromeda's on Monday - this one Harry had had nothing to do with. They'd had tea and ice cream again and Harry and Malfoy had attempted to teach Teddy how to pay exploding snap. He was too young but he quite enjoyed the snapping actually. On the way out, Harry's hand brushed Draco's and he'd not pulled his hand away. In fact - for one glorious second, Harry was convinced Draco's pinky tried to curve around his. When he looked at Draco's profile in alarm, there was nothing in his expression to suggest there was nefarious finger-linking action going on. 

Malfoy had said "bye Harry" and the significance was not lost on him. 

\---

All in all, Harry felt he'd made considerable progress and maybe he wasn't too far from actually just asking Draco out. It was definitely a job better done in person though - rather than via owl. So Harry decided to maybe tell Draco how he felt next time he saw him. Which, given the way things had been going, was very soon after. 

On Saturday, when Harry arrived slightly earlier than usual for his tea with McGonagall, he entered her office just as Malfoy was on his way out. 

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed - genuine surprise in his voice. 

"Harry!" Was an equally surprised response from Draco. They stood at the top of the staircase, just outside the Headmistress' door for a fraction of a second when he heard McGonagall call out to him, 

"Potter! Is that you here already? Come in" 

They stared at each other a fraction longer and then Malfoy tried to steer past Harry, their hands brushing slightly. "See you" he breathed. Harry stood on the now empty staircase for two more moments before heading into the open chamber. 

"Good afternoon, Professor" Harry greeted. He was on the brink of a ludicrous decision but he was powerless to stop it. 

"Potter - hello! Good to see you. Come, have a seat."

Harry took a deep breath and then started speaking very quickly, "I'm so sorry Professor, but I've just recalled a previous engagement. Would it be terrible if I rescheduled?"

McGonagall peered at him owlishly from behind her rectangular spectacles. 

"No, of course not - Harry. Feel free - we can certainly reschedule. I hope everything's alright?" She added, a twinge of concern in her voice that met an answering twinge of guilt in his gut.

"Minerva, you needn't worry" came a voice from the wall. Harry looked up to see Dumbledore, seated in his armchair, a thick leather tome in his hands. He stared levelly at Harry, despite talking to Minerva; and somehow even through paint and canvas, Harry could see the twinkle in his eyes and the telltale crinkle of humour in their corners. He turned back to the Headmistress, "I dare say, Harry's prior engagement is a more personal one in nature."

Harry felt his cheeks burn red and McGonagall just stared from Dumbledore to him and back - looking slightly surprised and not a little bit clueless. 

"Hello Professor. How are you today?" Harry politely inquired of Dumbledore. 

Dumbledore smiled that cheeky little smile and answered, "oh more of the same, nothing too exciting. It looks a lovely day for a spot of Quidditch I'd say. If you can find an amenable partner. Alas, not a luxury I can partake in, so a short nap I think." And with that he shut his eyes. 

Harry turned back to McGonagall promising to owl her before heading out. He threw one final look Dumbledore's way, who opened his eyes for a brief second, before winking at Harry, and then shutting them again. Harry rushed down the stairs and out of the castle, heading towards the gates, assuming Malfoy intended to apparate out of the grounds. Once he clocked Malfoy, walking up ahead - Harry doubled his speed, dodging children left and right - calling out Malfoy's name repeatedly. When Malfoy finally turned around, Harry was fairly certain he'd got a split in his side. He slowed down to a brisk walk, Malfoy waiting at the gates for him. Having not thought of a game plan, Harry found himself with not much to say once they were standing facing each other - Malfoy silent but with one brow raised; expecting Harry to volunteer a reason for running after him like his arse was on fire. Understandable. Harry used the time spent "catching his breath" to run through potential things to say and eventually, courtesy a wise old man in a painting, opted for,  
"Wanna play a spot of Quidditch?"

"I beg your pardon?" Malfoy said. Incredulously - if Harry had to attach an emotion to that tone of voice, 

"Quidditch " Harry repeated. "With me. Could be fun, I reckon? Great day for it"

"You're mad" Harry got for his efforts. He couldn't exactly disagree so he grinned, 

"Probably. So? What do you reckon? Or are you too chicken?" He added for good measure - relying on that competitive rivalry he knew likely was simmering just below the surface. 

Malfoy was warring with himself - it was utterly transparent. Harry willed him to say yes. And just like that, Malfoy's face cleared, 

"You're on, Potter" he grinned. Harry just about stopped himself from whooping and throwing a fist in the air like a lunatic. They turned around and started heading towards the Quidditch pitch, walking in amicable silence, until Malfoy spoke, 

"You were done with your meeting pretty quickly". 

Harry could either lie or go with "actually I wasn't but I just postponed it so I could run after you instead." Maybe one day - but today was definitely a day for white lies. "Err... just had to drop something off" Malfoy didn't push, thank God. 

"Were you visiting Snape's portrait?" Harry asked. 

"Yes." 

Right. Touchy subject. Best not to probe. 

They reached the Quidditch pitch only to discover their (or rather Harry's courtesy Dumbledore) idea was not theirs alone. A number of students looked to be playing a game of goalies and chasers. It was predominantly younger students by the look of things - made sense given the older kids were probably in Hogsmeade. 

"Well Potter, looks like we'll have to take a rain check." Malfoy said. 

Not quite, Harry thought to himself. Still looking up, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out "hello" as loud as he could. He saw first one, then two and eventually all 8 fly down to land with varying levels of grace on to the grass. 

"Hi" Harry said - his public charm face on full display. 

"Mr Potter!" One of the kids further back called out. He nudged his way to the front and Harry recognised him from the work Christmas parties. 

"Hey Arun!" Harry said jovially. "You're a good flier, I saw some pretty good moves up there" that was a lie, Harry had seen nothing but he'd already told more lies than truths at this point in the day so why change now? 

Arun turned red - which was quite something given his darker skin tone. He mumbled a quick thank you. A blonde girl who had been front of the line until Arun pushed forward nudged him in the side and he suddenly seemed to shake off whatever embarrassed trance he'd been in. 

"Sorry" he said, and then proceeded to list a number of names Harry would have no hope of remembering. The blonde girl was Emily which was about all the information he retained. Still he smiled and nodded throughout and when Arun finished with a "and this is Auror Potter. Auror Harry Potter" Harry figured it was his cue to give a cheerful smile and a jaunty wave. 

"Hello" he said again and the children - now silent, just stood there, presumably in shock. A loud voice from the back called out, "the Harry Potter?", to which Harry replied "that I'm aware of" and suddenly the kids came alive clamouring past a slightly surprised Arun to crowd around Harry brimming with exclamations. They ranged from "My dad says you saved the world" to which Harry went slightly pink, to "my sister thinks you're well cute, Mr Potter" to which Harry went scarlet. A number of name drops ensued, do you knows pertaining to people Harry had never seen or heard from in his life, to which he just smiled wanly. Harry looked over his shoulder with a plea aimed at Malfoy to see him skirting around the edge of the congregation looking equal parts uncomfortable and amused. Harry called out to him, resulting in all eyes moving from Harry to Malfoy and now he looked 0 parts amused, 100 parts uncomfortable. 

"Um...guys" Harry hastened, "this is...err... my friend. Draco Malfoy."

The name was met with suspicion from some of the kids but some looked blissfully ignorant. Luckily, or unluckily, remembering the names of 3 heroes and 1 baddy was an easier job for most of this lot than remembering the names of the many accomplices of the villain. Even the oldest of this group of kids couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 when the war ended - too young for Hogwarts and too young to really understand what was happening beyond the immediate threats to them. Those memories would gradually fade and the War would be something they learnt about or felt the phantom pangs of - not like the almost nightly terrors that woke Harry up or the perpetual weight of loss that he'd now learnt to live with like an unsightly mole or something. 

The kids were all mumbling their names and Malfoy was smiling and shaking their hands now - which is a damn sight more than Harry bothered with. When the rounds of introductions were done, Harry opened his mouth to make the request he'd intended when he called the kids down. But before he could say anything a meek voice issued from one of the children, 

"Are you related to Lucius Malfoy?" Came the cautious whisper of a question and the way Malfoy, standing beside Harry, went ramrod straight, you'd think she'd sworn at him. He looked at Harry accusingly as if to say, "this is your fucking fault, Potter. I could've been at home doing poncy pureblood shit instead of face this kind of questioning". Just as quickly Malfoy smoothed out his expression and turned to the voice. He cleared his throat and spoke evenly - his inner turmoil likely only evident to Harry. 

"He was.. he is, rather, my father." 

Harry and Draco both waited for some sort of harsh comment to the tune of "my mother says your dad was a giant fucking scumbag" maybe. But when none was forthcoming, Malfoy followed up with a "why do you ask?". 

The meek voice approached from the side of the group, dragging her broom alongside her, until she was standing right in front of Malfoy. She shyly handed the broom handle to him and pointed at the writing engraved on the corner of the handle. Harry peered to the side and there, in fine lettering, he read 

"Donated to Slytherin House by Lucius A. Malfoy."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. And imperceptible though it was, he felt a cautious release of breath from beside him. 

Harry addressed the group of children before he spoke again,

"I used to play Seeker for Gryffindor. Draco here was always trying to one up me so his daddy donated a whole bunch of Nimbus 2000s to the Slytherin team to get him selected." Harry lowered his tone to a stage whisper before adding "but even with the fancy brooms, I always beat him". The kids all laughed and Harry threw a cheeky look at Malfoy hoping to convey that he was just jesting. It seemed no confirmation was necessary because Malfoy was grinning at this point albeit with a threatening glint in his eyes, 

"Luck, Potter. You'd do well to not confuse luck with skill. Don't listen to him - it's a wonder he can fly a broom at all with his ego weighing him down. And as for the brooms, I can only apologise for the charity shown by House Malfoy"

Harry snorted. "Come off it, you probably just ran whining to Daddy and he was like 'anything for my little Draco'. Imagine how rubbish you'd need to be to for your father to have to buy an entire team brooms in order to get his son in the playing 7. I bet I could destroy you even now"

Malfoy followed the tactic with aplomb. 

"Easy to say when there's no way to find out, Potty"

"True" Harry said, "unless" and here he turned back to the children who were following this conversation pretty avidly. "What say you lot to letting us play with you?"

"You want to play with us?" Arun asked, awe in his voice. 

"Yeah - why not? You were playing chasers and goalies right? So let's add seekers in the mix. 10 points per goal and 50 for the snitch. 30 minute timer - regardless of whether the snitch is caught or not. What do you reckon?"

This was met with a round of cheers and exclamations such as "sounds good, Mr Potter", "let's do it" and even a very sincere, "ooo sounds like so much fun!"

"Captains?" Draco called, and Arun and the blonde girl stepped forward. A 3rd person - a boy; Tom or Tim or something jogged over to the broomshed offering to bring rides for Harry and Draco. 

"Who chooses first?" Arun asked and Harry produced a Knut from his pocket - "let's toss for it, he said. Arun you call" Harry tossed the Knut as Arun called Dragon. 

"Wands - sorry Arun. Emily you choose". Harry was disappointed because he didn't particularly want to be playing against the Head Auror's son, however trivial the game was. He expected to be the first to get chosen. So imagine his surprise when the first person Emily called out was Draco. 

"Mr Malfoy" she'd said - both Harry and Draco had started in surprise and Harry's natural instinct to be deeply offended had been quashed almost the instant he'd seen Draco's grin. He had walked the short distance over to Emily's side. The other person grinning wide had been Arun who likely thought the same as Harry - that losing the toss meant losing him. He called out Harry's name and Harry walked over to him. Eventually the team selection was concluded, and the captains moved further apart to discuss strategy. It was 5 to a team - goalkeeper, seeker and 3 chasers. Harry was seeker and Arun was goalkeeper, the sturdy boy who brought the brooms, Tom, a tall 3rd year named Rose and her friend Aisha were chasers. When the roles had been concluded by both teams, Harry spelled a timer in the sky while Malfoy spelled a scoreboard. A small crowd of students had congregated in the front stands to watch the game and Arun had enlisted the help of a young Indian girl to keep the scoreboard ticking. Harry noticed them holding hands and smirked. He wondered if Patel knew her son had a sweetheart. Malfoy went and showed her how to score as well as telling her what the rules were and in no time at all, Harry released the snitch, the players lifted off the ground and he spelled the timer to start. 

Harry flew higher than the throng, instinctually. Letting his former self - the student who lived for winning the Quidditch Cup every year (alongside the unwanted pasttime of thwarting Voldemort) take charge. He flew high until he was barely able to discern what was happening in the game below. Harry felt the serenity of the moment so deeply that he forgot to even cast an eye out for the snitch. 

"Glorious, isn't it?" He heard beside him, opening his eyes to find Draco's broom beside his own. 

"Beautiful. Like nothing matters". Harry said 

"I always liked flying. It always felt so... liberating. Like any problem you could conceive of was just so inconsequential."

Harry nodded. He knew exactly what Malfoy meant. He'd always loved to fly - from the moment he'd started, back in first year, rescuing Neville's remembrall. Which Malfoy had thrown - the bastard. 

"Yeah. Like if everything went tits up down there, I could just grab a broom and fly the fuck away."

Malfoy looked at Harry in surprise - probably at his astuteness. For all that they were on opposing sides of the war, at the crucial moments there was probably similar pressures on both - so it's not unsurprising that Harry should understand Malfoy's fantasies of just escaping everything. Nor that he should share them. They heard cheers below and both peered down but were unfortunately too high up to see the score. Harry started to lower his broom while Malfoy decided to circle it down - probably for a chance to clock the snitch early. 

Harry saw the Wands (they'd decided to name themselves after their coin toss win) score a quick goal against his team - the meek one who'd asked about Lucius was bloody fast on a broom and couldn't be older than 12. He would suggest she try for seeker when this game was up. Harry whooped at her - shouting praise. Arun gave him a wounded look, but Harry just grinned. He started taking lazy rounds of the pitch, observing the kids playing - feeling happy and carefree. Malfoy was now on the other end of the pitch doing the same thing, they'd pass each other occasionally and just grin at each other. Harry saw Arun deflect a powerfully thrown quaffle. It nearly hit him and he flung praise down even as he shot up a foot to avoid getting hit. It arced under him and then started a free fall downwards before being clumsily grabbed by Emily. Suddenly a flutter of gold caught his eye - Harry tried to follow the movement but it was gone as quickly as it came. He doubled down on the speed of his circles around the pitch, and Malfoy noticing this started to emulate. Harry saw the snitch again and started to give chase. It was diving below into the throng of the game and he could see Malfoy speeding after him; likely just following his lead rather than his own sighting. He flew fast into the middle of the pitch, his arm outstretched, Malfoy fast on his heels and just as he thought he had it, the snitch took an unpredictable turn and Harry lost track. He pulled hard at the handle of his broom and came to a halt between the hoops. His eyes darted quickly in all directions - it couldn't have got that far. Malfoy came to a halt about 10 paces closer to the Dragons' hoops than Harry, facing Harry's direction. His eyes flitting side to side as well. The game completely halted all around them. No one was moving, likely because Harry and Draco were in their way. Harry started to fly up and out of the playing area, and Draco was following suit. They had gone maybe a foot higher in the air, the players cautiously moving to restart the game, when he caught sight of the snitch right beside Draco's ear. Draco obviously also clocked it because in the next instant he'd shifted his broom to the right sharply to grab a hold of it. The back of Draco's broom knocked against Arun's, who was inching forward to get into position as Draco was flying out of his space. He lost his balance and teetered for a second trying to steady himself, only to topple over anyway. 

"Arun!" Harry called. Draco turned around just in time to see Arun begin to free fall to the ground, his limbs flailing. Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket at light speed and cast Arresto Momentum even as he flew towards him. Arun's body slowed in its descent, sufficiently for Draco to drop vertically downwards on his broom and catch his body. He settled him on his broom and flew to the ground, taking his own wand out in the process. Harry's heart only stopped thundering when he saw Draco grab the kid. He saw Draco end the charm on Arun's body, and then descend onto the ground, releasing the snitch and walking off. Harry grabbed Arun's broom and descended to the ground, along with the others. Everyone rushed to Arun's side - who, apart from being a bit shaken, was absolutely unharmed. He stood up comfortably enough and Harry returned his broom.  
"Looks like we lost, Mr Potter" he said. 

Harry looked at the scoreboard and it had the two teams level on 80 and since Draco had caught the snitch, the Wands would have won. 

"Next time" Harry said. He wished the kids goodbye and started jogging after Malfoy. 

"Draco" he called out when he caught sight of him, but Draco didn't slow down. Harry kept up his light jog until he was able to walk alongside him. 

"You won." Harry said, "you caught the snitch. Well done"

"Thank you" Draco said but his voice sounded strained. 

"He's fine. Honestly - I just saw him. A bit shaken but physically he's 100% okay"

"Good" was all he got in response. 

They reached the gate and just as Harry clocked the telltale twist in Draco's foot, he grabbed on to his arm. 

"Let me go, Potter"

"No. I mean, yes. Of course. Just... I wanted to ask you something first."

Draco looked down at Harry's hand closed over his bicep and gave him an exasperated look. 

"Say your piece Potter then let me go"

"Not here" Harry said. He dragged Malfoy out of the line of sight of anyone standing by the Hogwarts gates, around a bit of thicket to the side of the castle. 

"I wanted to say...well ask... we're um... well, we're not enemies anymore right? And, well, we see each other often and I'd like to think, well, we get along" this was bloody difficult. Come on Harry - use your words. Just ask him out. "And... I was thinking..."

"Out with it Potter - I haven't all day" Draco said, his foot tapping the ground impatiently. Harry opened his mouth to try again but then thought, fuck it, and just knelt in and kissed Malfoy. On the lips. Entirely unprovoked. Malfoy's lips were soft. And completely unresponsive. Fuck. Harry reared his head back in horror, he'd clearly misinterpreted the signs and now he was in a world of shit. But before he could get very far, Malfoy had grabbed his lapel and dragged him back. And this time, they were kissing properly. Harry couldn't believe how properly they were kissing actually - Malfoy's hands went from clutching Harry's jacket to around his neck, clasping at his nape while Harry's moved from his arms to his waist. It could have been hours or minutes, Harry wasn't sure but when at last they parted, it was a sudden jerky movement from Malfoy. He pulled back, stared at Harry wide-eyed, cheeks and lips both pinker than usual. Malfoy took a step backwards and Harry's arms fell from his waist. His eyes moved from Harry's eyes to his lips and back and then, just as Harry was about to lean in for another kiss, he spun on his heel and disappeared. Harry's elation of a moment ago morphed into confusion. What the fuck had just happened?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter to follow!

"You kissed him???" Hermione whispered

"I kissed him. And then he kissed me." Harry said forlornly. 

They were sitting in the Ministry cafeteria having lunch, and Harry had just disclosed the details of what happened two days ago. He had sent a series of owls all of Sunday but they'd all returned unopened. He couldn't help but feel he'd misstepped but Malfoy had kissed him back. Snogged, really. Made out with him. Honestly - kissing was rather tame for what Malfoy had done. 

"What do I do?" Harry pleaded. 

"Oh Harry, I don't know. I'd say give him space - he obviously feels something for you, maybe he just needs to figure out exactly what that something is?"

"So what exactly, then? I let him come to me when he's ready?"

"I suppose so. Or maybe approach him in a few days? Harry but this is good news! At least you know he's not indifferent"

"I suppose" Harry mumbled. He pushed the chips on his plate around some more. His appetite had deserted him in the face of all his romantic confusion. 

Hermione patted him consolingly on the back of his hand, "it'll be fine, Harry. Don't worry". Then she got up, grabbed her tray and walked over to the bins. Harry followed suit. 

\---

Unfortunately for Harry, work wasn't significantly better than his private life. Harry hadn't needed to know Parkinson to forgive her; he knew she wasn't an inherently evil person. Alas, she was an insufferably annoying one. He thought fondly of the time when she was timid and unsure. Over the days and weeks she'd found her voice and she utilised it to criticise Harry's and Anthony's way of working constantly. The idea of this arrangement was to allow her to acclimatise to his style of crime fighting - not try to redevelop it. And it's not like Harry could say this to her, she was so fucking on edge all the goddamned time, you'd have to be a special brand of cruel to criticise her and unfortunately Harry was a decent sort of bloke. What Parkinson needed was to loosen up, feel more at ease, appreciate that no one expected her to be a robot. It was a human job, meant to be performed by humans. Instead she fucking sat in their once-happy room like a dementor - sucking the joy out of everything. 

As a result of this, Harry's feet dragged more than realistically warranted for a Monday afternoon, on his way back to the Auror offices from the cafeteria. His lunch with Hermione was lovely as usual but it afforded no clarity on the Malfoy situation. Honestly it was a little bit infuriating - surely the person who could reasonably be regarded as punching in a Harry-Draco equation was Draco. Harry was a decorated war hero, fucks sake. And yeah, sure, Malfoy looked like he'd been sculpted by the gods, out of porcelain and the tears of angels but he was still a pain. Harry grimaced at the weakly poetic direction of his thoughts and in the next moment he let out a sharp laugh that had people staring at him curiously in the lifts. Romantic trouble and work trouble - every person in this goddamned building probably suffered from one or both of these. The novelty of being normal still made Harry smile. Perspective was a beautiful thing - Harry defeated a Dark Lord - he could handle the enigmatic Slytherins he'd found himself faced with. 

So it was with a slight smile that Harry entered the Den of Despair - previously Harry and Anthony's office. Tony was writing a case report and Parkinson was staring at Harry with disapproval rolling off of her in waves. 

"You're late" she said, her tone jarring. 

"Yep" Harry replied cheerfully. He cast a quick tempus, 2:03. "I'll stay until 5:03 today, it's only fair. Those 3 minutes will likely mean all the difference."

Harry heard Tony huff a soundless laugh to his left. Parkinson's lip curled. She cleared her throat, and spoke again, "I've put the Zygna Aldershot case file on your desk. I've highlighted the bits to note. I intended to put it by your other case files but your desk is revolting Potter, I didn't want to stand close to it for too long for fear that I'd catch something from the fumes."

Harry felt the prickle of annoyance travel from his gut to his throat like bile but he swallowed it down. He wasn't going to get riled up by Pansy bloody Parkinson. He looked at his desk, it was messy, sure - but it wasn't dirty. It was just quills, parchment, old case files, new case files and a shocking number of chocolate frog wrappers. But that hardly mattered - Harry knew where shit was. Most of the time. 

"Cheers Parkinson" Harry replied. "I'll do that now" he added as he took his seat behind his desk. He opened the Zygna Aldershot case file and had to swallow down his bile-like irritation again - Parkinson insisted on highlighting in red ink which never failed to make Harry feel like he was in school. He spelled away the highlights - he'd been reading case files a lot longer than Parkinson and didn't need her cues to garner necessary information from the documents. His irritation melted away as he read - it was an interesting case and life's many annoyances moved to the back of his mind to make room. Harry, Tony, Parkinson were part of a larger task force, headed by Senior Auror Gray to bust an illegal potions ring. A mind altering potion, called Z, was making the rounds across the United Kingdom. It was supposed to suppress the part of the mind that fed you doubts - allowing the taker to be more confident in taking risks or making tough decisions. Despite diligent working on the case, they had nothing but one dead end lead - the name Zygna Aldershot. They'd caught a couple of distributors the previous week but even they knew very little about who they worked for. Harry's eyes locked on a new piece of information - first instances of the potion in Muggle London. 

"If Z is being distributed in Muggle London" Harry muttered, "there must be a Muggle trail"

"How do you mean?" Tony asked. Harry saw Parkinson had stopped whatever she was doing as well but she didn't speak. 

"Well - they're not paying in galleons are they, these Muggles? And they're probably not buying from some Pure Blood who has no clue about Muggle customs" Harry remembered Malfoy's fascination with his credit card. A Pure Blood distributor in Muggle London would raise too many red flags. 

"So what are you suggesting? That Aldershot's got a Muggle distribution network?"

"Maybe. Maybe she's in cahoots with some known drug distributors or something. Easier to enter a known channel than develop your own"

"So if we get Muggle Liaison to try and get information from Muggle law enforcement, we might get a possible lead?" Parkinson spoke up this time.

"Yeah" Harry nodded. "But not even just that. There's got to be a paper trail. Either the distributors are Half Bloods and doing the currency conversions themselves before giving Aldershot the money or there's a Muggle bank account. Either way that's a flow of cash we should be able to trace. Not to mention the fact that she's unlikely to be magicking the packages to them, there's probably some physical exchange happening. It's not something we would have questioned the distributors we've got in custody on."

"That's brilliant, Harry!" Anthony said

"Thanks" Harry mumbled, faintly embarrassed. "Was gonna go to Gray's office to talk about it. You wanna come?" Harry addressed the room at large but only Tony was looking at him. 

"Nah - you go" he said. 

"Parkinson?" Harry asked. She looked up in surprise but then quickly shot up in the air. "Yes." She said hurriedly. She was so very odd, Harry thought as they headed out of their office, over to Gray's. 

\-----

"I'll arrange a meeting with Muggle Liaison. This is good thinking Potter, Parkinson. Well done. We'll apply to question Edwards and Hunter under Veritaserum a second time as well." Senior Auror Gray told them right after Harry had shared his thoughts with her.

"Thank you, Ma'am" Harry and Parkinson said almost in unison. 

She'd listened attentively, without interrupting. Fiona Gray was one of the most decorated Aurors in the department. She'd been offered the role of Head Auror after Robards but had declined as she'd enjoyed working in the field so much. Harry knew this because Kingsley had told him, it wasn't common knowledge, nor would any of the parties like it to be. What Harry liked most about her was her haste; she wasn't one to get bogged down with red tape and bureaucracy - she worked the system and got shit done. So when, after hearing Harry out, she spurred directly into action, Harry felt both validated and cautiously optimistic about the case. 

They took their leave of her office and Harry decided to make a quick stop in the little kitchenette in the corner to grab a cup of tea. He expected Parkinson to head back but he discovered her relatively unwelcome presence when he turned to grab his cup from the cupboard above the sink. 

"It wasn't my idea"

"Sorry?" Harry said. What was she on now? He could feel the beginnings of a headache behind his temples. 

"Gray said 'good thinking Potter, Parkinson.' It wasn't my thinking"

"Yeah it was" Harry said, as he popped a green teabag into his cup, and poured hot water over the top. 

"No, Potter. It wasn't." She persisted. 

Harry picked up his cup with one hand, and rubbed his face with the other. The end of the day stood too far out into the distance for his liking. He turned to face Parkinson more fully. 

"We're a team, Parkinson. It's not about what came from me or Tony or you. It's that it came from us together. Our team."

She stared at him for a good long while. Harry stared back for all of 10 seconds before it became too much. He vanished his teabag and took a sip of his tea. Staring into the contents of the cup when he was done. 

"Sorry" she whispered. 

Harry looked up in alarm. Her lips were curved downwards in displeasure, her nose was scrunched up in all its puggish glory. She looked like she'd bitten into a particularly sour lemon. Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. Which was most definitely the wrong thing to do, since her downturned lips now resembled a snarl. 

"Calm down!" he said quickly. Too quickly. "Jesus, why are you always so on edge? It's just funny how badly apologising sits with you Slytherin lot. I laughed. It's fine. I'm not laughing at you. Well I mean I am but not in a mean way. Look Parkinson, you've really got to chill the fuck out, okay? We're the same side and we're partners which means we've got to not hate each other or misjudge every little thing okay?" Harry stared at her imploringly but she still looked devilishly upset and what the fuck was he doing anyway? Pansy Parkinson wasn't going to be Harry's friend. He should never have picked her. He's sure she'll make a great Auror but she hated his guts and to be honest, she wouldn't exactly be on his Christmas list either but they were partners for fucks sake. And Harry had had enough problems on that front already. He realised he was glaring back at her, so he tried to soften his expression. It did absolutely no good as she just turned around and stormed out of the little room. Harry continued to stand in the now empty kitchenette wondering what he'd got himself into. Maybe there was time to convince Tony to rethink his decision to relocate. 

A pair of laughing Aurors walked in and Harry felt acutely how shit his life was going to become once Goldstein moved on to greener pastures. He took a despondent sip of his tea only to discover it had gone tepid and disgusting. He vanished it with a pained sigh and returned to his office. 

"Did you lose Parkinson?" Anthony asked once Harry had settled himself behind his desk. Harry looked at her desk and realised she wasn't there. 

"She left before me"

"She's not been back"

Harry mumbled something about thanking God and small mercies before pulling a case file from his in tray and spreading it open on his desk. And as if life wasn't shit enough as it was, it appeared as though Randall had restarted his thieving ways. Harry got up, the case file under his arm. 

"I'm off to pay Mrs Higgins a visit. I'll see you in an hour or so"

"Send Randy my love" Anthony said. Thankfully Parkinson hadn't returned from wherever she'd fucked off to. Dealing with feline felons alongside a constantly on-edge Parkinson was altogether too much for Harry. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out.

\-----

As it happened Harry didn't have cause to return to work on Monday. Not wholly because he was so caught up in crime fighting - more because he took his sweet time tracking down the owner of the locket Randall had nicked. And on Tuesday when he walked in to his office he thought maybe he'd accidentally walked into the wrong one. He stepped back and looked at the plaques on the door, but it said H Potter, followed by A. Goldstein and a shinier P. Parkinson at the bottom. Right office then. Harry looked again at his desk; his neat and tidy desk. He looked at the other two desks and they looked the same; Anthony's careful disorder looked the same as usual, Parkinson's meticulously clean one also looked the same. Harry carefully walked over to the robe rack, hanging up his jacket and pulling his robes out of his satchel, keeping an eye on the innocent looking desk in the corner the whole time - expecting it to attack him. He was equally careful walking behind it, as though he was approaching a cursed object. He cast a series of revealing charms on the chair before sitting down, only doing so when he was absolutely certain his arse wouldn't catch fire or something. 

From behind his desk Harry was able to see that his desk appeared to be reorganised. Or rather, organised in the first instance. There were a pile of expired case files on his left, his intray on the right. Live case files and unwritten or draft case reports were in front of him. There was a fucking coaster where previously there were a series of water rings. Harry lifted the coaster and found only smooth, polished wood. He dropped it back as though it had burned him. Harry was progressively getting more and more infuriated with whoever had done this. He could very well guess who it was given there was only one person who took such an active role in terrorising him for his messy desk. The utter cheek of that cow, that she thought she could touch his shit, move it around just because it wasn't how she'd like it. Wait until she got in, Harry thought. Pansy Parkinson would be getting such a talking to. Harry turned to grab a quill from the World's Best Godfather mug he had but his hands met air. He looked up, but of course the bint had moved that too. He cast his eye around his desk and found it behind his in tray. Except, his quills were laid flat on the table next to it, and inside the mug was a chocolate frog. Harry grabbed it and upended it in front of him in confusion. Two chocolate frogs came tumbling out. Harry loved chocolate frogs - they were his daily sugar dose and he doubted he would survive the truly dull days without them. It hit Harry in that moment that maybe this wasn't Parkinson trying to piss him off. This was Parkinson apologising or calling a truce or something. Trust her to make it so you can't tell which it is. 

Harry was reeling from this epiphany when Anthony walked in. He looked at Harry and said hello, continued walking towards the robe rack before stopping in his tracks. He turned to face Harry - his eyes falling to the desk, then the person seated behind it, then back. 

"What the fuck?" He said. 

"Parkinson" Harry replied darkly. 

Anthony's eyes widened before he burst into laughter. 

"Oh my god, she's bonkers isn't she? That's such a lot of trouble to go to, to make a point"

"Actually" Harry said dryly, holding up the chocolate frogs - one in each hand, "I think she was trying to be nice"

Anthony's eyebrows shot up behind his fringe. He grinned. "Kinda don't wanna go" he said, "you guys working together will be hilarious" 

"Fuck you" Harry said. He was going to ask what he ought to say to Parkinson but she entered at right that moment. 

She looked at Harry almost instantly before looking away in the next second. She walked over to her desk, keeping her eyes straight ahead. Anthony was looking deeply amused as he buttoned his robes and Harry was fighting the urge to punch that look straight off his face. He opted, instead, for showing him his middle finger before clearing his throat and offering his quasi-sincere thank you. 

"Parkinson" she looked up, and the look of fear mingled with apprehension and maybe a hint of hope kicked Harry's hero complex into action. 

"Thank you" he said, casting his arms out to encompass the entirety of his work space, "for this. You really didn't have to..."

Parkinson's expression thawed into one of relief, although the apprehension didn't quite take its leave. She gave a curt nod before grabbing her robe and sitting down. The office was cramped with three people and the robes hung directly to her left. Initially she'd come in before either Harry or Tony and would click her tongue impatiently when they came to collect their robes. Harry reckoned she'd started coming in a bit later to avoid that, specifically. Taking her nod to mean the matter had been given due courtesy, Harry grabbed his quill and pulled a clean bit of parchment to begin penning Randall's saga from the previous afternoon. He looked at his meticulous desk and wondered where he would find a copy of Randall's last case report to copy off from. He looked at Parkinson who was busy reading a nice new case probably. He could ask but it sounded too domestic to his ears, "honey, where's my blasted case report on that kneazle that steals things?" No thank you. He'd find it. As soon as he started rifling through the pile of old case files he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Parkinson's head had swivelled in his direction and he could feel her disapproval like a tangible thing. Harry carefully set the files he'd grabbed back in the pile and started thumbing down the side. Infinitely less efficient but a least the bint was happy. Or less miserable, rather. 

About 10 cases into his search, Harry realised they were in reverse alphabetical order. After that he quickly thumbed to the Rs and, upon coming up fruitless, thumbed down to H where a fat tome under Gerta Higgins awaited him, carrying the details of all of Randall's nefarious thievery. Harry felt there was something to be said about this new system but he didn't feel any great need to be the one saying it. He copied the contents of the report from last month onto his fresh parchment and then spelled away all relevant details to be replaced by the particulars of yesterday's case. 30 minutes later, he made a copy of the completed document and stuck it in the file, put the original in his out-tray and in a rare show of organisational prowess, returned the case file to its appropriate location in his alphabetical pile. 

He got up, stretched and then decided on going down to the cafeteria for a cuppa. 

"Anyone for tea or coffee?" He asked. 

"Depends" Tony replied. "Are you going out or staying in?"

"Staying in" 

"Then no"

Harry snorted a laugh - Ministry drivel wasn't everyone's cup of tea, pardon the pun. 

"Parkinson?" He said. Expecting a scornful, withering glare, Harry was pleasantly surprised to receive a placid "no, thank you". There was hope for them, yet!

\----

Harry walked to the back of the queue in the canteen when he saw Auror Ville waiting ahead of him. 

"Marie" he said, tapping her on the shoulder. Harry liked Marie Ville immensely. She'd been an Auror for over 35 years and had been one of the trainers at the Academy when Harry had joined. She had treated him with the same quiet indifference she'd shown everyone else - praising his strengths and being constructively critical where he was weak. It was Harry the Person she'd grown fond of, over that time, not Harry the Vanquisher of Evil Dark Lords. Harry reckoned by the end of it all, she'd seen him as something of a son. Neville too. 

"Harry" she said fondly, "how are you? You've not been to say hello in a good long while". 

Harry felt a pang of guilt at that - he'd got wrapped up in his own shit and actually hadn't been to see her in well over a month. He tried to mask it with cheek, 

"Could say the same for you"

"Oh but you know... these old bones aren't what they once were."

"Come off it, Marie" Harry scoffed at that absolute lie, "I saw you chase down a new recruit in Simulations literally not even 2 months ago"

Marie flushed, clearly pleased. 

"Those days are behind me. Only person I hope to be chasing down from now on is my granddaughter." 

She turned back around to pay for her tea and Harry had a moment to remember that today was Marie's last day in the office. He'd signed her card months ago. Was there a party? When Harry moved to the head of the queue, Marie waited for him. Once he was finished they both moved towards the lifts together. 

"Are you coming tonight?" She asked. Evidently there was a party. Fuck. Why did he insist on forgetting the important shit with such consistent regularity?

"Wouldn't miss it for the world" is what he said though. 

"Good. 6pm at the Leaky. Remind Neville too, would you? He owled me a few days ago but just in case he's forgotten. Haven't seen that boy in too long!" The bastard - he couldn't have sent an owl to Harry as well? 

"I'll tell him" Harry said as they entered the lift. "Grand plans for retirement?"

As Marie launched into an ambitious list of things she wanted to do, Harry tried to run through potential retirement presents he could procure at such short notice. Why was he such a disorganised mess?

"...and she's already 5! Before I know it, she'll be off to Hogwarts"

"Same age as my Godson, Teddy. I'll force him to be best friends with her so we can see each other at birthday parties twice every year." 

Marie laughed, "what criminal stands a chance against such a mastermind?"

Harry grinned, "they don't. Between my mastermind ways and my stellar Auror training courtesy some excellent trainers, I'm a force to be reckoned with"

"Stop" Marie laughed again, swatting Harry lightly on the arm, "or my head won't fit through my office door"

"Won't need it to, for much longer" Harry joked. The doors to the lift opened and Harry stepped out. Marie would be heading further down, to the training rooms. 

"See you tonight" she called out, as the doors closed on her. Harry waved until the doors had completely shut. 

\----

"Package for you on your desk" Tony said, as Harry entered. he picked it up as he sat down unfolding the note stuck to the top,

"Harry,

FYI, Marie's leaving do is tonight. I've circled some things in the catalogue attached that I think she'll like. Order now and you'll get it before tonight I reckon. 

Nev"

Neville Longbottom was truly a god among men, Harry thought, as he spread open the catalogue. A spa retreat on page 2 looked excellent, as did a wizard space playground for children being raised in the city. Harry decided to order both. He drank the rest of his coffee before heading to the owlery to misuse Ministry resources. He was doing that far too often these days. 

"Are you going tonight?" Harry asked Tony when he returned to the office. 

"What's tonight? Oh! Ville's leaving drinks? Yeah, reckon so. Are you?"

"Yep," Harry replied. "Parkinson? I reckon you should come - chance to see people in a less formal setting"

"I have plans" she said. Oh well. Harry had tried. 

The rest of the morning passed fairly uneventfully and in relative silence. There was a steady stream of work to be done and by and large that killed any opportunity for idle conversation. Not that there was too much of that in this office nowadays anyway. Initially, when Parkinson had newly joined, Tony would make concerted efforts to draw her into conversation but she'd resisted. And in a room of 3, not including someone is altogether too dickish for either of them to stomach. Hence they'd just resigned themselves to silence for the rest of their lives. Well, the rest of Harry's life - Tony would probably be Chatty Cathy across the pond. Having said all that, silence was infinitely preferable to what shortly followed. 

At near midday, Pansy Parkinson shot up in her seat. Harry looked over at her to find her standing there holding a memo in her hand, staring at it like it held all worldly answers. Harry looked at Anthony, who shrugged. They both turned back to Parkinson who continued her blind stare.

“What’s up?” Harry asked and instantly wished he hadn’t because, in the next moment, the full force of Parkinson’s wrath came tumbling down on his head.

“You…” she sputtered, staring directly at him. “I stayed for 2 extra fucking hours sorting out that pig sty of a desk. I believed all that shit you said yesterday, Potter. ‘Working together’, ‘partners’ all of that tripe. Fuck you! Bet you had a right good laugh when you came in to see what an effort I’d made for your worthless arse.” Harry’s eyes went wide at the aggressive tirade. He looked over to Anthony who also looked utterly baffled and whose eyes were equally wide.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Anthony asked, because Harry was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish…

“Patel wants to see me” Parkinson said, looking at Tony. Then she whipped her head back around to stare at Harry again, “why is that Potter? Is it because you’ve gone and complained about me and now she wants me out of here because Merlin forbid any of us mortals should ever question the Chosen One? We should all just lick your boots, should we? Well fuck that” she got out from behind her desk and stormed out of the office, her nose high in the air.

"What the...?" Anthony asked. 

"Fuck if I know" Harry replied. 

"Did you...?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "Christ, no of course not. I would never do that. You know that, come on..."

Anthony looked suitably chastised for even thinking Harry would do a snakey thing like that. Harry didn't know what Patel had called Parkinson for, but it sure as shit had nothing to do with him. Maybe she'd rubbed someone else up the wrong way? Or maybe she just wanted to check up on her. The next half hour dragged on and Harry couldn't concentrate, so on edge was he. Anthony was no different at his desk; his eyes would go to the door at every sound, expecting Parkinson to walk through them. And when finally she did, she didn't look up. She walked quickly to her desk, without looking at either of the other two people in the room. 

"Well?" Anthony asked, "what did she want?"

Parkinson kept her head down for a few seconds more, then without looking up, a mumbled "nothing"

Harry waited for an apology or an acknowledgement that she'd got hacked off at him for no fucking reason. The more time that passed without it, the angrier Harry became until he couldn't sit there anymore. She'd started making notes on a case file and was acting like she hadn't just let loose on an unsuspecting colleague. 

Harry spoke in a carefully measured voice, "Not going to apologise?"

He saw her shoulders tense and though her entire body had gone rigid, still she didn't stop what she was doing or look up. Harry's anger was growing and threatening to let loose on her. He quickly got up to walk it off. 

"I'm going to lunch" he bit out before disappearing through the door. The cheek of her! She'd spouted all kinds of shite and didn't even have the decency to apologise once she realised it had all been bollocks. Harry was walking quickly through the atrium, trying to get outside as soon as possible. He didn't slow down until he was in the lift and once he turned to face the doors he saw Parkinson running towards him. Harry started bashing the Close button on the lift viciously - he didn't want to get into a shouting match with her, he was fucking done with that. Just as the doors were closing, two new recruits rushed in. The doors opened again and gave Parkinson enough time to get in. Harry and she stood in silence, presumably because she didn't want to lay into him with an audience present. When the doors opened to ground level, Harry quickly exited and Parkinson followed. Harry cast a disillusionment charm over himself once he realised he'd just exited onto Whitehall in his Auror robes. Fuck.

"Potter - will you stop for just one second!"

Harry whipped around in suppressed fury. 

"I'm angry, Parkinson. And I'm this close" he made a pinch with his forefinger and thumb, "to snapping and I know once that happens you're going to shout back or get defensive or crumble or cry or quit or do something stupid because you've been waiting, just fucking WAITING for shit to go wrong for you. You've been gagging for it so you can go back to your shitty support role and complain about the Ministry not giving you a chance."

Parkinson just stared at him, her lips pursed in displeasure. Good. Be displeased. Harry was done walking on egg shells around her. He turned back around to walk off but she put a hand on his arm to stop him before he could go very far. 

"I'm sorry." She said. 

"Why do you hate me so much?" Harry asked, turning back around. "I've tried to be nice to you. I told you I forgave you about the war, even. I spoke for you to Patel - knowing you'd be joining my team." Pansy's eyes widened in shock, "yeah - surprised are you? Did you think I just landed with you and that was just our combined bad luck? No, ironically I asked for you. Imagine how much I'm regretting that now?" Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. 

"Potter - stop! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I flipped back there. I just... I don't trust that this is real. I've been on standby for years! Then in one month I'm not only an Auror, I've been partnered with Harry Potter himself. And I know why that is now, Patel told me, but I didn't know that before. It didn't add up and contrary to what you might think of me, I'm no fool. This post war world is not sympathetic to the likes of me, and whenever shit's seemed out of place, it's almost always been bad for me."

Harry's anger cooled down the longer Parkinson talked. Her cheeks had gone a slight red, clearly she hadn't meant to reveal as much as she had done. Since that day in the canteen what felt like aeons ago, this was the first time Pansy Parkinson had seemed remotely human to him. Harry could sympathise but it wasn't okay to live in isolation and not put yourself out there. Just because past experiences had been less than ideal, didn't mean the future didn't have anything better to offer. It's exactly what Harry wanted to say to Draco - who was the same as Parkinson in that respect. They'd both chosen lives of solitude after the war but Malfoy had got away with it because healing wasn't a group activity. Both Draco's and Parkinson's self imposed exile was being threatened by Harry - admittedly in very different ways. He shook his head to clear it of thoughts of annoying blondes with soft lips and prickly personalities. Parkinson had chosen to be an Auror and Aurors worked in pairs and groups. 

"Parkinson, look - I get it. Life was a bit shit after the war, it wasn't exactly a bed of roses for me either. But... in the DMLE, with the Auror Corps - you've got to trust each other. If someone at work gives you trouble tell me, hell - tell Patel. She won't stand for it. It's not how we work. But you can't just go psycho paranoid at every little thing."

Parkinson nodded. She'd let go of Harry's arm but he didn't feel the need to escape anymore. He felt like he was getting through to her for the first time ever. 

"I'll... I guess I'll try." She said. "It's a difficult habit to break - constantly watching your back."

"Yeah" Harry said, sombrely. He remembered his interviews with Scrimgoer, his detentions with Umbridge. His confidences with Crouch Jr during 4th year. He remembered being on the run all of 7th year. "I know. Trust me, I know."

"Of course - sorry. I wasn't trying to imply that..."

"Stop" Harry laughed. "You're doing it again. Calm down - I wasn't attacking you." Then Harry surprised himself as much as Parkinson when he added "you want to grab lunch?"

Harry could see the no on her lips before she'd even opened her mouth. He'd seen it before, after all. He didn't want to be refused though - he decided. 

"We're already out here - and there are some really nice places by Embankment station. It'll be a quick walk."

She still seemed unsure, but Harry sensed she was going to say yes. 

"I haven't any Muggle money" she said. 

"My treat" Harry replied. 

Pansy nodded but not without one last longing look at the telephone booth. 

"You'll have to take off your robes though" Harry said sheepishly. "I can shrink them and put them in my pocket...?"

Pansy nodded and once they'd both disrobed and Harry had placed both shrunk sets in his pocket and cancelled the disillusionment charm on himself, Pansy cancelled the one on her - they started walking down towards the river together - into the heart of Muggle London. 

\----

"You just tell them what you like and they'll put it in the wrap. Then we pay. Look, I'll go first" Harry went up to the counter and started ordering his burrito. He went slowly and made a great show of picking out the various items to make sure Parkinson followed; grilled chicken, red beans, salsa, guacamole. He regretted his choice of lunch venue now, seeing the look of horror on his guest's face. When it was her turn she held herself remarkably well but did end up ordering exactly what Harry had. When the lady at the till asked them about drinks, Harry thought she might faint from fear. Harry ordered two cokes and paid. He took their tray to a table facing the glass wall looking out onto a busy London street. Harry unwrapped his burrito and took a bite while Pansy continued to poke and prod hers. 

"Don't worry" Harry joked. " it won't bite". 

Pansy gave him a withering look, but one without malice he thought. Or hoped. She unwrapped her burrito and took a bite out of the corner - all wrap and a hint of lettuce. Harry took a big bite to demonstrate and Parkinson tried to emulate but just ended up getting rice and beans on the tray instead of in her mouth. Harry laughed and handed her a napkin. She looked downright angry but at the burrito more than at Harry - having faced that wrath, Harry felt bad for the poor thing. 

"How come you never went into Mugg... Central London with Dr..Malfoy?"

He'd surprised her with his question. Parkinson swallowed before replying,

"How do you know about Draco?"

Oh. Harry felt a pang of disappointment. Clearly Harry wasn't significant to Draco if he hadn't even bothered telling his best mate about him. 

"Just...um.. came up once. In conversation." When that still wasn't sufficient, Harry went with "His cousin is my godson and he's been my Healer a few times too."

That placated her. She fished out a piece of chicken from her now fairly disintegrated burrito and put it in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. 

"Draco... he's always been curious. About new things. I'm not like that - I like to stick to what I know and understand." She looked to Harry expecting judgement but when there was none, she continued, "sometimes I felt bad - there was safety in numbers after all. But not bad enough to risk a world I didn't understand."

Harry nodded. "It's not so bad you know. Nor so different. If we don't integrate, Voldemort may well have won. Could be that someone else tries the same shit in a few years." Harry opened his can of coke and the other one, passing it to Parkinson who looked at it with a great degree of mistrust. 

"Try it." Harry urged.

She took the can and took a careful sip, smacking her lips carefully. She took another sip, a bigger one. She turned to Harry, and smiled. First proper smile from Pansy Parkinson and it was over a can of coke. 

"It's good!" She said. Harry smiled. He picked up his can and held it out for Parkinson to tap against. 

"To rewriting history" Harry said. Parkinson smiled at that too, if a little less exuberantly than she had after her first sip of coke. 

They clinked cans and Harry felt a heavy weight lift off his shoulders. Finally, he felt like something was going alright. One of his Slytherin problems had been solved. Well, half of one, given Parkinson still mistrusted the rest of the Auror Corps. 

"You should come to Marie Ville's leaving drinks tonight" Harry said. "I think you need to put yourself out there and get to know some of the folks. Speak to Marie as well - she's amazing. She could introduce you to people."

"I can't" Parkinson replied. "I'm meeting a friend this evening."

"Bring them with you" Harry countered. "I really think this will help. Come for a bit, then go. It's at 6. You could meet your mate later. Or come to drinks later - it'll probably go on til like maybe 9 or 10. Won't be a late one - it's mid week and all."

"I'll... I'll think about it"

Harry smiled. He'd take that. 

The conversation moved from there to their respective experiences of working at the Ministry; Parkinson as DMLE support staff, Harry as a Junior Auror. The conversation didn't particularly flow, but it was still much better than no conversation at all. He was feeling decidedly better about everything by the time they'd finished eating. He scrunched up the foil his burrito was wrapped in and crushed his empty can in his hand before heading over to the bin and chucking the items in. He turned to see Parkinson staring at him in confusion. He laughed, allayed her fears that he hadn't engaged in a Muggle ritual - it was just a habit he had. He took her rubbish and binned it and they both headed back to the Ministry. 

\---

"Oh good" Anthony said as Harry and Parkinson entered their office, "you two haven't killed each other."

"Nope" Harry agreed. "We talked. Reckon we're okay now."

Harry looked towards Parkinson for confirmation and was satisfied with her slight nod. Anthony shook his head in disbelief. 

It was nearly 2 - the argument-cum-lunch had gone on for a touch longer than an hour and Harry did have a lot of work to do. He took his seat, pulled the report he was writing towards himself and started finishing it off. 

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly - due to a clerical error, the team got assigned two simultaneous cases. It happened sometimes and the Auror teams tended to just split up if it was possible to cover the case alone. As they were now a team of 3, there really was no choice but to go ahead with the assignments. So on Tuesday evening Harry was interviewing a Miss Amina Muhammad regarding a potential stalker, while Anthony and Parkinson were trying to track down a 13 year old who had run away from home. When Harry returned to the office, his partners still hadn't returned but a memo was knocking feebly against the closed door to the office. The spells were wearing off it, by the looks of things, so it would have been sent a while ago. Harry unfolded it to find a note from Gray. 

'HP, PP, AG - can question Edwards and Hunter soon as tomorrow. Wzngmt will need draft list of Qs before approval. Need to submit before 8am tomorrow to question in noon session. Pls provide. Thx - FG'

Harry cast a tempus to discover it was already 5. He would have to do this before tomorrow or he'd worry all night. The Wizengamot didn't tend to make life easy so it had to be perfect and within guidelines. The rules of questioning under Veritaserum were strict and had to be adhered to; Harry would have to write out a list that didn't encroach on the rights of the person being questioned or provide the interrogator with any unrelated information pertaining to the person under questioning. Harry pulled a piece of parchment out of his drawer and his copy of the Wizengamot Ethics Code. He thumbed to 'Interrogating Under Truth Spells or Serums' and started writing questions cross checked against the list of acceptable question structures. When Anthony and Parkinson returned almost an hour later, Harry was only a third of the way through. They offered to help but Harry waved them off - it wouldn't be much faster and it would waste their time. He told them to head on to the Leaky without him, and to apologise to Marie for his tardiness. They left, looking an amusing combination of both relieved and guilty and Harry would have engaged in some light ribbing if he wasn't busy. 

At approximately 8pm in the evening Harry decided he'd written a pretty compelling proposal for the Wizengamot. He made two copies; kept one for himself - put an Urgent seal on the remaining copy and the original and sent them to Gray and Patel. They'd proof read, make relevant additions as heads of Investigation and Department respectively, before sending to be approved. Harry got up, stretched his arms until he heard a satisfying crack in his shoulders. He suspected both Gray and Patel were at the Leaky by now, and wouldn't see the proposals until the morning. Hence, Harry hung up his robes, changed back into his jacket and made his way out. 

\---

Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron, at approximately 8:30pm, and found it absolutely teeming with people. He'd gone home after work to collect the presents - a spa day gift voucher and a miniature swingset; a replica of its larger counterpart which would be delivered to Marie's home over the coming weekend. Harry's eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Marie's head; it looked like the entire department had gathered for her as well as a decent number of ex-Aurors. Harry wasn't surprised - Marie was well loved and respected by all who worked with her. He moved further into the throng, towards the bar, hoping to find her in the thick of the crowd. 

At the bar, Harry realised he was standing next to Parkinson. He smiled. She was facing ahead, trying to get the bartender's attention. Harry tapped her on the shoulder, shouting "I'm so glad you came" over the noise of the pub. Parkinson turned around and it was only then that Harry realised she wasn't alone. In fact, right next to her, with his eyes slightly glazed over, a martini glass in one hand spilling over due to the unsteadiness of the individual holding it, was a quite drunk Draco Malfoy. 

"Potter!" Parkinson shouted, "I took your advice! Everyone's been really nice." Except Harry wasn't really paying attention because after 3 days of radio silence, Draco Malfoy was standing right before his very eyes. And he'd noticed Harry now too - his expression completely unguarded due, no doubt, to the alcohol running through his veins. His eyes would drop to Harry's lips and then back to Harry's eyes and Harry felt a powerful feeling of longing and affection for the bastard which he simultaneously loved and hated. Harry saw Draco's perfect lips form his name - he couldn't hear it over the noise, but he felt it just the same. Right, they were going to figure this out. Harry shouted out an "excuse me" to Parkinson, before pushing past her - grabbing Malfoy by the arm and dragging him outside through the back of the pub. 

"What the... Potter you beast - UNHAND ME" Malfoy said, as soon as they stepped out. 

"Why have you been ignoring me?" Harry said.

"Because you're an annoying prat." Malfoy said, his eyes spitting fire. 

"Bullshit." Harry replied. 

"Fuck you" Malfoy replied. This really wasn't the way two people who had essentially sucked each other's faces off not 4 days prior should be talking to each other. Harry grabbed Draco by his forearms and planted a kiss on his unsuspecting mouth. His lips tasted of vodka martini and olives. Harry felt a pang of concern that he was taking advantage of a drunk Draco but in the next moment Draco himself had latched onto Harry's lips. Harry let it go on for no more than 5 seconds, before stepping back. 

"Why are you ignoring me?" He asked again. More gently. 

"You can't leave" Draco said instead - his hands fisting the lapels of Harry's jackets. 

"Leave? I only just got here..." Harry said - confused. 

"No. Fuck you, you can't leave England" he said then. Malfoy was drunk - not so drunk that he couldn't talk coherently, but drunk enough to have no filter on what he said. 

"I'm not going anywhere" Harry said, his confusion growing. 

"It's too soon - not done yet" Draco mumbled, as if he hadn't heard what Harry had said. 

"Too soon for what?"

"Repayment. Not done yet." 

"Malfoy - the fuck are you talking about? You're clearly a bit too tipsy - come on, let's take you home. We'll talk tomorrow." Harry didn't want Malfoy to go but clearly he wasn't to be held responsible for anything he said or did in this state. He took Malfoy back inside and found Parkinson talking to Jackson Adesina, newly hired Poisons and Potions trainer at the Academy. 

"Parkinson" Harry said, "I think maybe Dra.. Malfoy needs to go home..."

"I'm not a child, Potter" Malfoy responded in disgruntlement, before grabbing Harry's shoulder as he started to sway a little. 

"Oh" Parkinson replied. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright. She wasn't drunk but Pansy Parkinson was also merrily on her way. "Shall I take him, then?" She looked at her conversation companion and then back at Draco. Harry looked from Jackson to Parkinson - noticing for the first time how close they were standing. Oh. Right. 

"Never mind." Harry said, "please continue." 

Harry left Malfoy propped against a wall and went to the bar to fetch him a glass of water. Which is where he bumped into Neville. 

"Harry!" Nev greeted, warmly. "How are you? Did you get my package - I never know if stuff gets to you when I send it to the Ministry. I don't see any presents...?"

Harry was listening with half an ear - his eyes were on Malfoy at the back of the room, who had just decided to sit down on the floor and take a kip, propped against the wall. 

"Nev - sorry, mate but I'm in a bit of a hurry". 

Neville turned around to follow Harry's gaze, and when he clocked Draco, he turned back with a smirk. "Yes. Busy indeed. I won't keep you - see you later!"

"Thanks! And thank you so much for the catalogue! Saved my bacon, honestly." 

Harry returned to Malfoy, hoisted him up by his arms, telling him to wake up. 

"Potter?" He murmured, "you haven't left?"

"Nope. Still here, Draco. Gonna take you home, okay?"

"32 Pembroke Mews" Draco said. He was very lax in Harry's arms, easy to manoeuvre and take to the floos. The man was surprisingly light weight. Harry was surprised he wasn't at Malfoy Manor - he tended to floo there after teas at Andy's but maybe that was just for his mother's benefit. 

Harry pushed Draco through, calling out his address as he went, before following him. He entered into a dark-ish living room, with Draco sprawled on an expansive rug on the floor. It wasn't even 9; either he'd packed a lot of booze into his day or Draco Malfoy just couldn't hold his liquor. Harry left Draco there, while he looked around the rest of the flat, stopping only once he located the master bedroom. He returned to find Malfoy dozing, levitated him up and moved him into his bedroom. Something fell from his pocket with a soft thump en route the bed. 

Harry tried to wake him up but he appeared dead to the world. He was going to ask about where Malfoy kept his Hangover Potion as a kindness for when he woke up, but oh well. He made his way back towards the floo in the dark, accidentally stepping on the something that had dropped from Malfoy's pocket. Harry bent to pick it up, and cast a light lumos over it. It was a small diary - the size of Harry's palm. The decent thing would've been to kill the lumos, put the diary on a side table and leave, but Harry's curiosity got the better of him. He ran his fingers over the soft leather of the cover, before thumbing it open. The pages were thin and gold edged, flowing easily under Harry's thumb. He thumbed from the back and stopped at the first page with an entry, 

"Helped Pansy integrate into new role" it said, with today's date. Bizarre. Harry thumbed one page further back, 

"Harry saved a Hogwarts student today after I accidentally unseated him during a Quidditch game. Harry invited me to play, I hadn't wanted to. Wish I hadn't now. All it got me was one more item for the list." with Sunday's date. Further down the same page, "He kissed me and I kissed back". That would've been Arun - Harry had saved him. He felt a prickle of unease roll down his spine. One page further back, "He forgave Pansy. He saw us together last week and the silly fool just ran away. I told him why she did that at Aunty Andromeda's the other day and the next thing I know she's telling me how he had lunch with her and told her he's forgiven her." Dated. Then, "he's been pestering me to meet him for lunch for a while now. I just said yes." He opened to a random page in the middle of the book, "Potter spoke to the Minister about allowing us visitation rights to see father. I don't know why he would do that, he hates him. I only found out through Pansy." A date from 3 years ago. Harry had been requested by Narcissa Malfoy to reconsider the punishment to her and her son of not being able to see their husband/father. Harry had just done it - it was of no consequence to him as long as Lucius stayed incarcerated. Further down the page it said, "have made large donation to the Victims of War fund." Harry was feeling a little bit sick. He turned to the first page, 

"Potter saved my life. - 02/05/1998" and to Harry's abject horror, the entries at the bottom of the page were all of the times Malfoy had treated Harry at St Mungo's. It was all there; the boils, the slicing hex, the confundus, the burns from 2 months ago all dated. Malfoy was paying him back - everything Harry had ever done for him or for someone near him was considered a debt that had to be repaid. It explained all that shit Harry had considered drunken ramblings - not done with repayment, can't leave yet. Fuck and that kiss! It was payment for saving Arun. Lunch for Pansy. All the milestones in their relationship had been because Malfoy felt indebted to him. Harry felt like he might retch. He grabbed the edge of the bookshelf to his left to support himself and took deep, calming breaths. In... out... in... out... Harry wanted to just go home and crawl under the covers, he wanted to shake Malfoy awake and demand answers. But what he needed to do was get back to the party - he hadn't even said goodbye to Marie properly. So Harry slipped the diary into his pocket. He pulled a bit of parchment and a self inking quill from his bag and wrote Malfoy a note, 

"I have your diary. HP"

Then he flood back to the Leaky, plastering a fake smile on his face and searching out Marie so he could pay his due regards before going home and digesting what he'd learnt. 

\-----


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap!! Let me know what you thought! :D

The revelations of the previous day weren't far from Harry's thoughts, but luckily - the following morning had been too busy for him to take a moment to think. He'd slept fitfully - feeling like he'd taken advantage of Draco's feelings of indebtedness, despite having not known about them. Harry had gone over everything that had transpired with a fine tooth comb, and it all seemed to indicate that Draco had limited feelings towards Harry besides feeling like he owed him for a random list of shit. What hadn't made sense though, was everything Draco had rambled about Harry not being allowed to leave England. Where did he think Harry was going? 

After barely sleeping, Harry had arrived at work earlier than usual; partly because, since he couldn't get to sleep, he might as well go to work and also because the Wizengamot proposal deadline was early. He arrived at work at 7 in the morning and wrote up the report on the stalker case from the day before. Once he'd concluded that, he'd received correspondence from Auror Gray telling him the proposal had gone through and that the Aldershot questioning was scheduled for 10am and that she'd scheduled a briefing for 9am. Harry and his team had to present to the rest of the task force, given it was their idea that had lead to the next step and also because Harry and Parkinson would be leading the interrogation. When, half an hour later, Anthony came in, followed by Parkinson two minutes later - Harry pulled two bottles of Hangover Potion out of his drawer and levitated them to each of their desks. 

"We've got a briefing on Aldershot in less than an hour and an interrogation an hour after that. So drink that if you need it and let's get to work." He said. 

Anthony smirked and levitated the bottle back to Harry's desk. "Thanks, Potter, but I only stayed for one. Who's leading the briefing?"

"We are" Harry replied, putting the bottle back in his desk drawer. He saw Parkinson unstopper hers and swallow it down with a grimace. Once his entire team was lucid and awake, or close to, Harry discussed both the approved proposal and what they'd be saying for the briefing with them. By the time they were done, it was time for the real deal. 

The morning didn't ease after the interrogation - if anything it got more hectic. They'd come away from the interrogation with a glimmer of hope - Hunter had been recruited by Aldershot as one of the suppliers to the Muggle network but he'd been caught before his first drop. This provided the team with a name in the Muggle distribution network. Harry, Tony and Parkinson then had a series of expedited meetings with Gray and Muggle Liaison to get access to the Met Police's files on the names they'd pulled from Hunter. It was their first sniff at the prize and Gray was forcing the normally sluggish Ministry to show hustle. They arranged a meeting with a DCI with the Met Police within the hour, and Harry was sent to meet with him. Tony and Parkinson returned to the office for the daily grind. 

In fact, the first time Harry had a moment to himself was after his meeting with Gray to talk through what he'd learnt from the DCI. She'd told him to get himself lunch and take a breather. She would organise a meeting with the team before the end of the day to discuss next steps. Harry decided to skip lunch and write up his findings before he forgot something key from his meetings. He stepped into the office, taking his jacket off as he went in - 

"I don't think I've had a day this hectic since we..." Harry stopped mid sentence, one arm out of his jacket, one still in. He locked eyes with Draco Malfoy, sitting by Parkinson's desk. Harry had almost completely forgotten about the revelations from last night, but reality came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks in that one moment. Drac... Malfoy's diary had been in Harry's jacket pocket all day and where Harry hadn't noticed it's presence before, now he felt it weighing him down. 

Malfoy stood up, "Potter," he said, "I was wondering if I could have a word?"

Harry searched his expression for some sort of tell, but he wasn't giving an inch. Passively bland, Malfoy didn't look at all like he was a man with something to hide. Harry pondered his options. He wanted to have it out with Malfoy almost as much as he wanted to not have it out with him. He also knew this wasn't going to be a quick conversation and he didn't have time today. His brain also unhelpfully noticed how well his charcoal grey robes suited his eyes. 

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, today" Harry replied carefully. He watched closely for a reaction, and he felt as though there was a defiant spark of annoyance in Malfoy's expression but it was gone soon as it came. 

"It will only take a second" he said. 

"No it won't." Harry said viciously. "I'm sorry. I'm very busy. If there's nothing else, I'll be going." 

Harry put his arm back in his jacket, strode to his desk and grabbed a quill and parchment, his satchel and walked back out - he'd just work from the canteen or something. That way he'd be able to grab something to eat as well. Not that he'd have much appetite for it. 

Unfortunately, Harry had no such luck. He sat down at a table in the cafeteria with crisps and a chicken sandwich and unrolled the parchment, opened his notebook where he'd taken notes of his meeting with DCI Khan and started on the write up. He'd written a heading when someone pulled up the chair opposite him and sat down. Harry looked up in annoyance and once more made eye contact with Draco Malfoy. Harry thought wryly back to him from a couple days ago - when this much attention from Malfoy would have made him giddy. 

"Potter," He said. "You have my diary"

"Yes." Harry replied, placing his quill down on the table. 

"I would like it back" Malfoy said exasperatedly. Good. Let him sweat. 

"I'm sure you would, but I've no intention of returning it."

Malfoy looked mildly agitated now. He placed both hands on the table, leaning forward. 

"Potter - it's my property. You can't withhold it, you've no right." He said. 

"Quite. But when each page pertains to me in some way, I think you'll find I probably do have some right. I won't return it, Malfoy. Not until I have an explanation and unfortunately, I haven't time to discuss it with you today." Harry kept his tone measured, when really he was feeling the full force of yesterday evenings anguish the longer Malfoy sat there. 

Harry had surprised him with that, it was obvious. Either Malfoy was naive enough to think Harry hadn't read the wretched thing or foolish enough to not realise that the contents might be upsetting to him. He looked torn between taking Harry's words at face value and fighting his case. Eventually, he got up from his seat, his expression both resigned and resolved, all at once. 

"Very well, Potter. Owl me when you have a minute to spare. To discuss" He said formally, the word 'discuss' hanging in the air dripping with disdain. And then he got up from his seat and walked out of the cafeteria. Harry stared after him until he was out of sight, then shook his head to clear his thoughts and went back to his report writing. 

\---

As it happened, Harry had no opportunity to send that owl on Wednesday. Nor any other day that week. That's not to say Harry couldn't have just sent a note to say his week was looking too busy and that he'd be in touch as soon as possible - but Harry was feeling particularly uncharitable towards Malfoy. Additionally, Harry was struggling not to see him as a victim Harry had taken advantage of, and hence he felt better with a safe distance between them. So deep ran his self disgust, he hadn't even told Ron and Hermione about what he'd found out. He knew he couldn't be blamed for something he hadn't known, and that's most likely what his best friends would have told him too, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he should have noticed something amiss. The reason he'd gone after Malfoy was to find out why he was always Harry's Healer after all. He had already known something was fishy! Then somewhere along the line that plan had got replaced by a new, romantic one. 

Harry had a lot of time to think these things over, over the weekend he spent in a South London back alley, hoping to witness a potion drop off. He'd sit there on the damp ground, staring at the doors to The Clink, covered with his invisibility cloak and with the hours that went by without any activity, his brain would latch on the shit show with Malfoy. Hunter had provided a number of drop off locations and dependent on the bustle of the areas, the Aurors had to deduce optimal times to stake out the area. Harry had pulled the short straw with The Clink, 9pm to 7am. He doubted they'd choose the weekend but Gray didn't want to lose time so he'd forgone having a life for 2 days. Luckily, that being the weekend, he could just go home and sleep it off during the day. Now, with it being Sunday - Harry would only have enough time for a quick shower before heading over to work for the morning briefing. Then he reckoned he could skip out and sleep at home before showing up here again, unless someone else witnessed something huge and there was no need for more stake outs. Unlikely. 

Harry yawned so hard, he felt his jaw click. He cast a warming spell on himself, since the last one was wearing off, allowing his eyes to wander around the area - hoping they'd see something that would provide them with incentive to stay open. The street was dead, and there was nothing for him to latch his focus on. He would have much preferred being in a more active stake out area, or at least one large enough to warrant two Aurors but he had already been more active on this case than his colleagues. He knew Gray had assigned him The Clink because she didn't want to appear as though she was favouring him. Harry massaged his temples - it was so frustrating being him sometimes. He was almost always treated differently - sometimes he was treated differently so that it could appear as though he wasn't being treated differently. Even someone as scrupulously fair as Fiona Gray couldn't avoid it. And that was it, wasn't it? Harry killed Voldemort so now he was some all important king of the universe who could get on any case he wanted and demand kisses from blokes he fancied who probably didn't even like him! What a fucking mess. And to top it all off, he was sitting in the deadest part of London, waiting for something that wasn't going to happen, to happen, with nothing but his bloody guilty conscience and his semi-broken heart to keep him company. 

It was absolutely no surprise to Harry that nothing had happened in the night, when at last he got up at 7am, from the position he'd been in for almost 10 hours. Helpfully a cold London drizzle had started up approximately 4 hours ago and, while the impervious Harry had cast had done a solid job on his glasses, upper body and head, unfortunately his trainers were soaked through. He knew from experience that drying charms on shoes (or at least his drying charms on shoes) always shrunk them, so by far the best option was to trudge home with soggy shoes and socks. He intentionally shrunk his hip flask, the cloak and his sandwich box, put them in his pockets and crawled out from his street corner into the crowd of London commuters. When at last he found a quiet alcove, he apparated to his preferred location near home and walked the short distance to Grimmauld. The briefing was at 9 and Harry reckoned he could even sneak a power nap and breakfast in before heading in. He unwarded the front door and stepped in, feeling the warmth seep deep into his bones. Harry dropped his satchel next to the umbrella stand, and bent to take his soaked shoes and socks off. He'd got one sock off when Kreacher popped into existence in front of him. 

"Master Harry..."

"Kreacher - hello! I was just gonna take a quick nap and then maybe a rushed breakfast before work" Harry said, peeling his other shoe and sock off, "you know where my slippers are?" He added. 

Harry's slippers were next seen floating down the stairs to the landing where Harry stood and Harry slipped his feet in gratefully. 

"Thanks" Harry said to the wizened old elf. 

"Master Harry, Kreacher is needing to tell you..."

"Later" Harry cut him off, not wanting to waste the precious little time he had left. Harry turned to go up the stairs when he caught movement through the slightly ajar living room door. Instantly, Harry was on high alert - drowsiness that was threatening to cause him to lose consciousness on the stairs where he stood, instantly evaporated. 

"Kreacher..." Harry said, walking back down the stairs and towards the living room, "is there someone here?"

"This is what Kreacher is trying to tell Harry Potter" he croaked, but Harry wasn't paying attention. He nudged the door open the full way and walked in, finding his fucking nightmare standing at his fireplace, holding up a photo of Harry and Teddy in one hand. 

"Malfoy" Harry said, as calmly as he could manage. "What are you doing here? How the fuck did you even get in?"

Malfoy turned around, not surprised at Harry's presence. He supposed he must've heard Harry come in. Harry looked longingly towards the door, at the nap he wouldn't be able to have. 

"Potter. Your elf let me in" he replied, returning the photo to its home on the mantle, "and as to the former - I think you know what I'm here for."

Harry looked accusingly at Kreacher, who consequently looked suitably chastised. Likely he'd be whacking himself repeatedly over the head as soon as Malfoy left - something Harry would have to watch out for in order to stop it. The way he was feeling right now, he reckoned he'd probably want to join in. Harry looked back towards Malfoy; looking him over from bottom to top. He was dressed in Healer robes, stained with god knows what. He must've had a night shift like Harry, and had likely come directly. Harry looked up at his face and underneath the blush, presumably a result of Harry's frank appraisal, he looked absolutely knackered. He looked a lot like Harry felt. And Christ, Harry didn't know what was wrong with him but he still found him devastatingly attractive. Suddenly, there was no reason to delay and Harry figured he might as well cut him loose and go back to his life. What would talking achieve anyway?

"Fine." He said, striding back to the door, where he'd dropped his satchel. He pulled open the flap, moved a few files left and right and dug out the little, innocent looking notebook of horrors. He went back through to the living room and chucked it at Malfoy, who attempted to catch it and failed, allowing the damned thing to fall innocuously onto the floor. Malfoy bent down and picked it up, and when he straightened, his expression was one of relief and confusion. 

"Just like that?" He said, holding the diary so tightly, his knuckles looked white. "What happened to discussing?"

"Changed my mind," Harry said rigidly. And then, "Please leave."

"Potter..." Malfoy started to say something and Harry realised in that moment how very little he wanted to hear it. 

"No. I don't need an explanation, Malfoy, honestly. I thought I did but turns out I don't. Just...please stop with the repayments okay? As far as I'm concerned; you saved my life and then I saved yours so really I was the one repaying a debt, not you. But just... stop. It makes me physically ill to think that you went out to lunch with me, you... you kissed me for fucks sake - all out of some misplaced sense of duty. I liked you... I wanted to date you and you were what? Gonna just whore yourself out to me as payment?? Do you know how that makes me feel?" Malfoy stood stock still, not speaking, not even blinking. If Harry didn't know better, he'd guess Malfoy had been petrified. "I'll be requesting a different Healer next time I'm in St Mungo's" Harry said finally, when it didn't look like Malfoy had much to say for himself. He turned around and walked back out the living room door and towards the stairs. A second later, he heard Malfoy behind him, heard him call out his name and he felt so utterly exhausted with the whole damned week, he stopped at the foot of the stairs and without turning said, "Kreacher - please show Mr Malfoy out." 

"Potter - fucking stop for a minute"

"You is to be leaving now Master Draco"

Harry kept climbing the stairs until the sounds of his elf arguing with his unwanted house guest faded. He walked into his bathroom and opened his potions cabinet, taking out his trusty bottle of dreamless sleep. Harry poured a small dose into the cap and swallowed it down before heading over to his bed, setting an alarm for an hour later and crawling into bed without even bothering with changing his clothes. 

\---

Harry didn't hear from Malfoy again for the remainder of that week. The fact only further proved that everything he'd done was out of duty, rather than any real feelings. Harry still felt a little bit sick when he thought of that kiss behind the Hogwarts gates. It also didn't help that Harry mostly spent that week in isolation - either at home or at The Clink. The 3 or so hours he spent in the office every day were his only real interaction with anyone aside from Kreacher and even then he was too busy running around trying to get a days work done in a couple of hours, not to mention he was typically operating on less than 1 hour of sleep. So Harry's dark mood was only getting darker; even Anthony and Parkinson had noticed and they approached him only if it was absolutely necessary. So when Ron walked through his office on Friday, Harry nearly wept with relief. Harry's own life felt like it had gone a bit off kilter but Ron looked just the fucking same in his WWW robes, a smudge of something on his cheek. 

"Hey, just came to grab lunch with Mione - thought I'd pop by to say hi before heading over there." He said. 

"Hi" Harry replied. He moved out from behind his desk, grabbed Ron by the elbow and dragged him out of his office, 

"Woah - where are we going?" Ron said, bewildered. 

"To see Mione" Harry replied, letting go of Ron's arm and speed walking through the Auror office, to the lifts. Harry entered and Ron followed bemused, watching with slightly startled eyes as Harry viciously bashed the lift button. 

"Are you joining for lunch?" Ron asked, slowly, like he was talking to a frightened child. 

"I've no time" Harry muttered, as the lift lurched to a halt and they both stepped out, "but I haven't seen you guys in so long - I'll just stay for a bit..."

Ron smiled, pleased, "we miss you too mate. She's gonna be well pleased to see you..."

She wouldn't. Harry knew that Ron loved him as much as Hermione did, but it was also common knowledge that his astuteness left a lot to be desired, while Hermione had to merely look at Harry to know something was wrong. Harry actually reckoned this was a consequence of the time they spent in the Forest of Dean during 7th year, but Ron was still incredibly touchy about that so it wasn't something they discussed in his presence too much. The Office to the Minister of Magic was an open plan floor, barring the Minister's cabin. Hermione's desk was furthest along, preceding the Minister's secretary and of course the Minister himself. The two of them hurried down the central isle, towards her and it was within seconds that she enveloped Harry in a tight hug. She'd looked up when they'd reached her desk and smiled at seeing Ron, her smile widening on seeing Harry and falling off her face in the next instant as she took him in. She'd strode over to the two of them, bypassing Ron and wrapping her arms around Harry. Harry hugged back, feeling calm and relieved and even slightly amused because an act like this 5 years ago would have sent Ron into a jealous tailspin. 

Hermione released Harry, looked into his eyes, before flitting her own over his face and then returning. She looked so very prim and proper in her Ministry garb, her hair pulled back in an austere bun, her royal blue robes cut smartly over her shoulders and neck. Harry pulled on a loose tendril of hair affectionately, as he allowed her to run her eyes critically over him. 

"What's wrong? Is it the case? Are you hurt?" She said, rattling off the questions quickly. 

Harry shook his head, no, before indicating with his eyes that he didn't want to do this here. He could feel eyes on him and an open plan office in the most gossip heavy building in all of Wizarding England was hardly where Harry wanted to be baring his soul. Hermione grabbed his arm, much the way he'd done Ron's less than 10 minutes ago, and turned to the door. Ron looked from one to the other in confusion and Harry saw Hermione lace the fingers of her free hand through his before leading them both out the way they'd come. Holding hands, unfortunately, wasn't conducive to crossing the narrow isle painlessly so Harry grabbed her hand from his arm and released himself, giving her hand a slight squeeze in the process. They didn't talk until they were out of the Ministry, sitting in a Costa not far from the office. Ron and Harry had removed their robes and shrunk them while Hermione had just unbuttoned hers, making it look like a very smart looking coat instead. Harry'd smiled at her ever resourcefulness. They'd not even discussed anything and already he felt a bit better. 

"Right. I'm assuming you've got to be back" Hermione said, in a very business-like tone of voice, "so out with it, please."

Harry took a deep breath, before revealing all. He felt a bit sick, going over the kisses, knowing what was to follow. Unfortunately for him, where Hermione was trying to be a silent listener, Ron felt no such compunction. In fact - seeing as he hadn't even known about the first kiss, it was especially difficult to get through the telling. 

"You kissed Malfoy?? Blimey, Harry, that's disgusting"

"Ronald!" 

"Oh come on, Mione. Don't tell me you're not weirded out."

"Actually, I already knew - and no I'm not weirded out. He's quite attractive, you know"

Ron's eyes bugged out of his face, almost. A face that had gone slightly red as well. 

"Attractive..." he sputtered, "Malfoy? I think I'm going to be sick."

Harry should have been annoyed at the interruption but he realised how little he'd seen his best mates, when he almost wanted this to continue. Unfortunately, he actually didn't have time. 

"Can I continue?" He asked, staring pointedly at Ron, who went a touch redder.

"Oh yes, Harry" Hermione said, "please. Ron will shut up, now, won't you Ron?" She added as though chastising a child; the child in question mumbled consent to staying quiet. 

Harry smiled briefly, before launching into the next bit of the story. The bit that consisted of finding out Malfoy had a book full of Harry's good deeds that he was slowly paying him back for by freely accepting his unwanted romantic attentions. The bit that made him want to retch. And when he was done, he found he didn't have it in him to look up from the table, lest he see judgement in the eyes of his best friends. Even though, rationally he knew that made fuck all sense. 

"Harry..." Hermione said, gently. "Are you sure that you didn't misunderstand what the diary said?"

"I've told you what it said" Harry said quietly. "You can't deny that it looks bad"

She put her hand over his, on the table, but still Harry didn't look up. 

"What you're blaming yourself for...it's completely unfounded and not at all what happened, Harry, you can't think like this" she said, as Harry had suspected she might. "Please look at us, Harry." she pleaded when still he continued to stare at the table, chipping at a groove in the wood with his forefinger, and finally he looked up. 

He found sympathy and understanding in Hermione's eyes but all that did was stoke the fire of discomfort in his belly. Ron had stayed silent through the exchange and when Harry looked over to him, his breath caught at the sheer incredulous fury on his face. Harry saw Hermione nudge him with her elbow, which he was sure, had she seen the expression on his face, she really wouldn't have. 

"Ow" Ron muttered, "rubbing at his side. What was that for?" He grumbled, glaring at her. 

"Say something!" She said, instead of replying, her voice imploring. No, please don't say anything - that expression was more than sufficient, Harry reckoned. 

At the cue, his best mate turned back to face him and the momentarily lost expression of surprise and anger returned,

"I don't know what to say, to be honest..." he responded, shrugging his shoulders. Good, don't say anything. "It's just that..." Ron took a deep breath and Harry closed his eyes, expecting some sort of horrified judgement to fall on his person. 

"What the fuck kind of bullshit is this?" Harry grimaced at Ron's opener, "trust Malfoy to think his kisses are some sort of currency - what did he think you were gonna say, 'oh yeah Malfoy you were a right ferrety bastard back at school, accidentally offed a bunch of my mates so that'll be two snogs and a peck please to make me forget'?!"

Harry stared at Ron in surprise and when he looked over at Hermione, she looked equally shocked at the tirade. Ron was now shaking his head, mumbling about how he'd always known Malfoy thought he was something special but that this really took the biscuit. Suddenly, Harry was laughing and soon, so was Hermione. He laughed until his stomach hurt and he was so utterly grateful for the clueless fool he'd befriended on the first day of school that he could cry from it. He didn't, instead he just laughed. At the first sound of laughter, Ron had stopped talking and was now just looking from one to the other in confusion. 

"What?" He asked, part annoyed, part confused.

"Nothing. We just love you is all." Hermione replied fondly, giving Ron's hand a squeeze. Then she turned back to Harry, her expression somber, 

"You should discuss this with him at some point - in your own time." She told him, Harry nodded to say he would, even though he'd closed that chapter as far as he was concerned. 

"You fancy him, still?" Ron asked, with his nose scrunched. 

Harry huffed a laugh, "doesn't matter now, does it? He obviously feels nothing for me... aside from gratitude..." 

"His loss, mate" Ron responded, sincerely. "You wanna get lunch now?"

Harry shook his head no, he'd already been away for far too long. So he got up from his seat, walked round to the other side to bid his friends farewell, before walking swiftly out of there, back towards the Ministry. It would be a lie to say he'd got over the shit with Malfoy but this was definitely the lightest he'd felt since he found that wretched diary. 

As he walked, Harry mentally made plans with each and every one of the people close to him. He reckoned his confusion and despair over Malfoy would have dissipated, or at least, been dulled if he hadn't spent so much of the last week alone and buried under a mountain of work. Unlikely he'd be sharing with Anthony or Parkinson, which kind of meant it just stayed bottled up. He hadn't been over to the Borrow, he hadn't even spent time with Teddy and that was a sure fire cure for all of Harry's problems. Harry ran through his schedule and decided maybe he could head over for an hour every day between the Ministry and home - around 3pm. Teddy was usually finished with pre-school by then, and Harry was sure Neville would probably have a free period some point in the week that coincided with that time. He could just pop over to WWW, or Mione's office for a quick chat, too. With the prospect of socialising with his best friends to cheer him up, Harry's mood lightened further and he entered his office with a slight smile playing on his lips. 

"Gray came looking for you," Parkinson told him, as he sat down. 

"Oh really? When was that?" Harry asked, pushing his arm through the sleeve of his robes. Harry didn't know what she'd want to talk to him about, given they'd had their briefing a few hours earlier. He rifled through the papers on his desk to make sure there was nothing obvious he was forgetting about. 

"About 10 minutes after you headed out" she replied. Harry thanked her, and a moment later, she said his name to get his attention. 

He looked up from where he was still peering through the papers on his desk. He found Parkinson staring at him, her eyes scrunched, her mouth slightly open as if on the verge of speaking. 

"Yeah?" Harry prompted. He saw Parkinson give her head a little shake, probably to clear it, and then she looked at Harry with confidence. She'd likely been unsure about saying whatever she was about to say and had just now decided to go for it. Harry braced himself. 

"Don't take this the wrong way, please..." not the most positive start to a sentence, Harry thought. He raised his eyebrows when she stalled. Anthony was now also looking up at the promise of something kicking off between Harry and Parkinson, no doubt. 

"Um.. don't you think you're far too involved in the Aldershot case, given..."

"How do you mean involved?" Harry asked darkly, "and given what, exactly?" If Parkinson was about to tell him she thought he got preferential treatment when he'd spend the last 4 nights in a dark, dank, dead fucking side alley in the City of London, so help him god he was going to strangle her. 

Parkinson's eyes widened with surprise - likely because Harry's feelings were plastered all over his face. She stumbled over her words, "I just mean...you're so...um....core to the operation and you might not even be around to see it through..."

"Why?" Harry asked accusingly, "where am I going?"

This time Parkinson just looked confused. "MACUSA." She replied simply. 

Now it was Harry's turn to look surprised. "I'm not going to MACUSA" he said. His eyes quickly shot to Anthony and found fear and concern etched into his features. "I'm not!" Harry repeated, looking directly at him.

"Parkinson" he turned back to her, "why do you think that?"

She looked well and truly baffled at this point, "Patel told me..."

Harry heard Anthony's intake of breath but continued staring at Parkinson instead. "Did she say my name? Did she tell you Harry Potter would be transferring to MACUSA?"

"I.... I mean she must have done, why else would I think it?" Was the underwhelming response he got.

"Potter if you're..." 

"NO" Harry said, cutting Anthony off before he could voice his objection. He looked good and frightened now, and he obviously thought Harry had it in him to be the kind of dirty sneak who'd dupe him like this. He got up from his desk, "come on" he said to his team, darkly. They got up after him, and collectively made their way out of the office towards Patel's cabin. 

Harry didn't bother knocking and found himself interrupting what was likely a fairly important meeting. Patel was surrounded by several people - some Harry recognised from senior roles in various Ministry functions and some were new. Percy was there and if he was, then this was likely something of significant importance. The office looked sparse - likely because a decent portion of Patel's ornaments and decorative items had been transformed into chairs for her guests. 

"Potter!" She said, her voice laced with frustration. "Can I ask you to please wai..."

"This will take a moment, Madam, it's urgent."

Her eyes traveled from Harry's face to his partners', likely noticing the concern and fear and general confusion in the air. Harry could sense they were also being looked at by the people sitting around the desk. 

"Very well. Excuse me please" Patel rose from her desk and followed Harry, Anthony and Parkinson out onto the Auror atrium. Her lips were pressed tightly and it took no genius to figure out that she was upset. They'd likely be on desk duty for a month because of this stunt from Harry. Still, Anthony had thought Harry had stolen his shot, and Harry couldn't abide that kind of misunderstanding in his office for a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. 

"Well? What is it?" She said, her voice blatantly frustrated with them. 

"Ma'am - can you confirm to my team who will be going to MACUSA in the new year and who will be remaining behind?" Harry's voice faltered towards the end, knowing how trivial his request sounded without context. 

Evidently Patel thought the same, "this is why I've just left a room full of Ministry officials?" She asked menacingly. Harry winced. Desk duty for the rest of his life seemed more likely all of a sudden. 

"I apologise, Head Auror Patel, but there was a misunderstanding in our office and I wanted it cleared up instantly. I appreciate I should have waited." Harry said, sounding contrite, he hoped. Anthony and Goldstein stayed quiet but when Patel's gaze traveled to them, he saw her soften somewhat. She was a very nuanced individual - quick to pick up on the mood of a moment. 

"Goldstein will be going to MACUSA mid-December, Parkinson and yourself, Potter, will be partners until his return, when alternative arrangements will be made as we see fit. Now, if there's nothing else, goodbye." With that, she turned back towards her office door. 

Harry heard Anthony's sigh of relief behind him and was just about to give him a sound talking to for questioning his integrity like that, when Patel spoke again, 

"If" she said with a pause, her hand on the doorknob. Harry turned back to look at her, "you ever interrupt me like that again, be certain that you will regret it." She disappeared sooner than the three of them could even volunteer a 'yes ma'am'. 

Harry turned and started striding towards the adjacent office, where Gray would be waiting to speak with him. He heard Anthony call out his name but didn't turn around. His good mood from earlier had evaporated and now all Harry wanted was to go home, nap before another dead night at his stakeout location. 

\-----

Harry was stuffing his invisibility cloak in his bag, alongside an empty thermos and a blanket at 7am the following morning, after another predictably unhelpful night. He killed the notice-me-not he'd cast over himself before slinging his bag over one shoulder and walking wearily to the apparition point. A vision of his bed, warm and welcoming, with crisp, laundered sheets danced before his exhausted eyes, a pair of dry pyjamas waiting on top of it. Harry cast an impervious on his glasses surreptitiously, grimacing as he felt the dampness of his trousers when he returned his wand to his back pocket. He closed his eyes, pictured his preferred apparition point near home, and appeared there a moment later. Harry was pondering the merits of a bowl of warm soup with bread before his nap as he strolled to his house, stopping dead at the foot of the two steps that lead up to his front door. 

Harry stared at Malfoy, sitting on his front stoop, an umbrella held above his head with one hand, his other hand holding a book open on his lap. What fresh hell was this? Harry cleared his throat and Malfoy looked up, startled. 

"Potter" he said quickly, standing up hurriedly. "You're here."

"Clearly" Harry said acerbically. He noticed the old fashioned cut of his coat, one side longer than the other. Malfoy pulled at his lapel self consciously - Harry suspected he'd transfigured his Healer robes in haste. "What are you doing on my front stoop, Malfoy?" Harry asked. 

"Your elf wouldn't let me in..." He replied sullenly. 

Good. Harry was glad Kreacher was listening. And if a part of him felt guilty seeing Malfoy's somewhat soaked trouser leg, he didn't acknowledge it. 

"Why did you want to be let in?" Harry asked. 

Malfoy looked irritated, "to share pleasantries with my great aunt. Honestly Potter, why do you think? I need to speak with you."

"What about?" 

"Potter please - we're both freezing our nethers off and we're both soaked, can we please just talk inside? I promise, it'll only take a few minutes."

He had a point there. The water had seeped right through Harry's trainers and his toes were now fairly numb, his jeans were sticking unpleasantly to his legs and he really fucking wanted to get inside his house. Ideally sans Malfoy. Unfortunately, didn't look like that was going to be an option. A large rain drop fell onto Harry's brow and this was what cinched it in the end. 

"Come in then" he mumbled, pushing past Malfoy, unwarding his front door and walking in. Harry went up the steps to his room and grabbed two sets of clean, dry clothes from his wardrobe, giving his bed longing looks as he did so. Harry first pulled his jacket and shirt off, throwing them to the floor, before he took off his shoes and peeled his sodden socks and jeans off, grimacing as the wet material unstuck from his skin. He accio'd a towel from his en suite and bent down to towel roughly at his legs. There was an audible gasp behind him and Harry whirled around, horrified to find Malfoy standing at the door, his mouth slightly open, and his eyes locked on Harry's torso.

"MALFOY, what the FUCK?" Harry said, his voice a bit shrill, unbundling the tower to wrap it around his waist like a skirt. 

Malfoy's eyes lifted to Harry's face and his look made Harry feel a bit warm. In another world, at another time it would have pleased him, but not in present circumstances. In another instant, though, Malfoy's look had morphed from into one of mortification. He turned around abruptly, standing with his back to Harry, allowing Harry to hastily dress in pyjamas and a sweatshirt. Harry grabbed the second set of dry clothes from the bed, roughly towelling his hair. 

"You can turn around now, you pervert" he said. 

"You didn't tell me you were disappearing to get naked, Potter. I thought I was supposed to follow you" Malfoy began as he turned around, his eyes somewhere around Harry's knees. He looked up defiantly, but the angry fire in his eyes extinguished when he saw Harry smiling wryly at me. 

"Likely tale. Here" Harry threw the clothes at Malfoy, who caught them with both hands, "towels in the bathroom, see you downstairs." And with that Harry left Malfoy in his bedroom, choosing instead to walk into the living room. 

He walked purposefully to the liquor cabinet, pouring two healthy measures of firewhiskey for him and his somewhat unwanted house guest - it wasn't even 8 in the morning, but Harry justified his actions using the fact that his night hadn't quite ended yet and likely neither had Malfoy's. Harry heard light foot steps and turned around, holding both tumblers in his hands - this time he was the one standing stock still with his mouth hanging a little bit open. Harry's clothes looked very different on Malfoy's slightly taller and slimmer shape - the tracksuit bottoms hung off his hips and yet still showed off a hint of ankle, the t shirt hung loosely off his frame, his collar bones on full display. He looked comical and the way his arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were staring defiantly at Harry, he obviously knew. For some reason, Harry felt no desire to laugh, and every desire to go up to him and snog him silly. What the fuck was the matter with him? He walked forward and thrust the drink in Malfoy's direction, keeping his gaze fixed on his left ear, as he took a sip from his own glass. The whiskey burned down Harry's throat and he felt a bit steadier. 

"Talk" he said to Malfoy, then. The faster they got through whatever this was, the faster he could forget it happened.

Moments passed in silence, Harry waited for Malfoy to speak. When a full minute had passed and he hadn't spoken, Harry shifted his gaze from his ear to rest fully on his face, his brow raised in question. Malfoy took a sip of his drink, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. Harry was ready to punch him, frankly - the longer he stood there looking fucking adorable as all hell in Harry's clothing, the more Harry thought about that fucking kiss and how happy he'd been before he'd discovered that blasted book and really, he was exhausted and just wanted a damned nap before going into work so could the bastard just say his piece and fuck out of Harry's life for good? 

"Well?!" Harry demanded, his tone impatient. "Talk, fuck's sake, Malfoy - you wanted to talk, so bloody do it already!"

Harry put his drink down, sat down on the sofa and rubbed his hands over his face - part frustration, part tiredness. He felt the sofa depress next to him, and looked up to find Malfoy had sat down next to him. He was absolutely at his wit's end, and it clearly showed because finally Malfoy spoke.

"You're not leaving." He said. 

Excellent - takes a decade and then talks in code, just how Harry wanted this conversation to go. 

"Leaving where? Where was I going?" Harry asked, irritated. 

"Pansy said... she said you were leaving... transferring abroad, to America, maybe?"

Not this again. And why was this even relevant?

"No. She got confused. It's my partner who's going. You waited for hours outside my house in the rain to talk about this?"

"I thought... before, at the..." Malfoy licked his lips and Harry nearly lost track of the conversation, forcing his brain to follow his words by sheer force of will power, "at.. the Leaky, that day, I thought you were leaving."

OH. Oh. Malfoy had talked nonsense about how Harry couldn't leave. Repeatedly. Like a mantra, almost. It made sense now - he hadn't wanted Harry to leave because he still felt indebted to him. The last piece to Harry's macabre puzzle was with him and he had no clue what to do with it. 

"Right. Well, like I said, she got confused." Harry said dejectedly. "But that doesn't change anything, I know what you've been trying to do and I still want absol...umph" that sentence abruptly ended because Malfoy was now firmly attached to Harry's mouth. For a moment Harry let it happen; Malfoy tasted of firewhiskey, his lips were soft and Harry had been thinking about kissing him on and off for the last 10 minutes after all. It was this thought that caused Harry to suddenly freeze, and subsequently push Malfoy back by the shoulders. The firewhiskey sloshed out of Malfoy's glass, spilling on Harry's lap. Fuck, had his thoughts been that transparent? Jesus. 

"What the fuck, Draco?!" Harry sputtered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, willing the taste of that kiss off himself. 

"Sorry!" He said, jumping up, off the sofa. He drained his glass before placing it on the mantle with shaking hands. "I thought... I thought you wanted..."

"Of course I bloody wanted" Harry snarled, jumping off the sofa and pacing the room like a caged lion, "and you thought what? Oh he's given me dry clothes, let me just pay him back with a snog, real quick - even the books?! Fuck's sake, Draco - I told you to cut with the payback shit!" 

Harry was truly pissed off and he only realised how pissed off he was when his cleaning charm caused a rip in his pyjamas. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration before sitting back down, willing himself to calm down. He sat there taking calming breaths in and out, regulating his breathing and his heart rate, controlling his temper for a couple minutes. And when he felt in control of himself, he looked up to find Malfoy staring at him cautiously. At Harry's movement, he started approaching the sofa slowly, as though approaching a skittish foal. 

"Calm down" Harry grumbled, his exhaustion settling over him like a heavy cloak, "I'm too tired to bite"

"Po..Harry" Malfoy said carefully, perching on the arm of the sofa, as far away from Harry as possible, "the book... I don't know what you think you saw but it's not what you think."

"Oh?" Harry said, staring venomously into Malfoy's eyes, "it wasn't a running tally of all the things you think you owe me for, with pay backs listed on the bottom?"

The fact that Malfoy's cheeks went from white and pale to peachy pink spoke more than any words could.

"It was...is... but Harry, it's necessary for me... to remember, to have that purpose..."

"And then" Harry said, as though he hadn't heard Malfoy speak, "you learnt that I fancied you - I mean I was throwing myself at you, wasn't I? You decided to just go with it, as a means to pay me back; what's a date or two eh, a kiss or two? It's for a good cause." The bitterness dripping from each word was tangible, and when Harry looked up at Malfoy, he found him shaking his head vehemently. 

He slid off the arm, and scooted next to Harry, "no! I never... I.. the dinner - it was because you spoke to Pansy, but that was it. Quidditch - that was me, and the... that kiss... that was me too. So... so was the one just now, before..."

"You forget" Harry said, standing up, the proximity wasn't allowing him to think, "I read that fucking diary, Malfoy. Don't play me for a fool, please - that's the least you can do." And just like that, Harry was done. He was done arguing about it - talking about it even. As far as he knew, there was nothing but pain in reliving the whole, blasted experience. He looked Malfoy squarely in the face, "I think I've had enough of this, I trust you can see yourself out." With that, he started walking out of the living room, intending to sneak what would likely be a 30 minute rest before getting ready to go into work. He didn't get very far though, because Malfoy, the fucker, hit him with a silent Stupefy, squarely in the back. Harry saw the hardwood floor approaching his face with alarming pace, and begged the gods that be that his fall wouldn't break his nose, but Malfoy it turns out wasn't a complete and utter bastard because the floor was cushioned when he hit it. 

Harry lay there, given he had literally no other option, for a brief moment before he was turned onto his back by a seething Draco Malfoy. 

"You utter Neanderthal - why can't you just listen, for a fucking moment? Look what I'm having to do to get you to bloody well just listen to me." Harry's anger was slowly changing into fear, Malfoy looked pretty enraged, and Harry was feeling particularly vulnerable with him hovering over him like that - in fact, the flashbacks he was getting to 6th year seemed all too plausible in this moment. 

"Contrary to what you seem to think, Potter - I was not whoring myself out to you, either today or that day outside Hogwarts. I like you, you imbecile. I did make it so I received all your cases at St Mungo's because my family is in your debt, and I admit I agreed to the dinner as an unsaid show of gratitude for your kindness to Pansy but I am not so arrogant or so... so... stupid as to think kissing you makes up for what you've done for me and my mother. If I thought that, would I ignore you like I did? You sent 37 owls, Potter. 37! Merlin of all the..." Harry was beginning to believe him, if only because he did look truly miffed. 

"Pansy said you were leaving and I figured you were just satisfying some bizarre curiosity that day at Hogwarts but obviously my debt still stood so I rambled on about not wanting you to go and evidently you used those two rusty brain cells of yours to come up with precisely the wrong thing! I like you. A lot, although fuck knows why. There. That's all I had to say. I'm going to unstun you now." 

The minute Harry could move his arms, he pushed Malfoy to the ground and straddled him, pointing his own wand at his chest. 

"Why. The. Fuck. Didn't. You. Say. This. Sooner. You. Prick???" He said, lightly stabbing Malfoy's chest between each word. 

"Because" Malfoy wheezed, "I thought you were fucking off to the US, were you even listening?!" He pushed Harry off, and sat up, so that now they were both sprawled on the floor of Harry's living room. 

"Why are you saying all this now?" Harry asked, suspiciously.

"Merlin, why do you think?" Malfoy muttered, scrambling to his feet. "You know what? Forget it. This was clearly a colossal waste of time." But before he could take a single step, Harry had stood up and grabbed him by the shoulder. 

"No. You're not going anywhere, you arsehole."

"Then fucking ask me if I'll go out with you" Malfoy said, turning around and glowering at Harry. 

"Will you go out with me?" Harry glowered back. 

"Yes"

"Good"

"Good"

Then more gently, "I'd like to kiss you now"

"I'd like that too."

Harry closed the short distance between them, cupping Malfoy's chin in place as he lifted up to kiss him. This time, with both parties completely on the same page, the kiss was infinitely better than it's predecessors and when it was over, they were both breathing slightly heavily, resting their foreheads against each other. 

"You have to throw away the diary" Harry said, kissing Mal.. Draco's chin. 

"But..."

"No, hear me out" Harry said, linking his fingers with Draco, pulling him over to the couch and sitting down, "if we're gonna date, then I'm gonna be doing a lot of stuff for you - I'm a very good boyfriend" Harry grinned, Draco also let out a reluctant smile, "you have to stop thinking about repaying me or this won't work."

"It helps me... be good" Draco said, staring at their interlocked hands. 

"See how you fare without it" Harry said. "Please"

Harry knew he was asking a lot but he also knew this had to happen in order for them to progress. He watched Draco's face avidly, following every emotion as it flit across his face and almost cheering out loud when his expression settled into one of resignation. 

"Fine" he said, then, got up and walked to Harry's fireplace - spelling a fire into the hearth and pulling the diary out of Harry's tracksuit bottoms as he went. He looked to Harry, still sitting on the sofa, once more, looking torn. Harry nodded in encouragement, "no more indebtedness" he said, getting up and walking over to Draco's side. 

"No more indebtedness" Draco replied, before throwing the diary into the fire. They watched the unsubstantial black book burn, the leather curling on itself and Harry felt like a dark cloud had lifted off from above him. 

No more indebtedness.


End file.
